


Birds and Stones

by Turandot (LostOzian)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Fae, Angst, Bondage, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Contract, Femdom, Hurt/Comfort, Lots and lots of femdom, Manipulation, Memory Alteration, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Imbalance, Pure Intentions Bad Actions, Sumi that's not how you get a boyfriend, Typical Akechi Revenge Quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostOzian/pseuds/Turandot
Summary: The ladder to the man who ruined Goro Akechi's life is long, and Goro is going to climb it one rung at a time. The trail brings him to a little town where he hopes to find his next target.In that small town, there's a girl, friendly and sweet, helpful and kind. She seems to think Goro's life should be spent on more than revenge. He couldn't disagree more, but saying no to her is difficult. Especially when she says his name...
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 63





	1. Waxing Crescnet

**Author's Note:**

> ~~You guys I learned to write AkeSumi for a dare, why do I ship this...~~
> 
> So this is an erotica that blossomed when I found out that other people ship AkeSumi too and we all just got really excited and then I wrote a whole lot real fast. Hyperfocus is a hell of a drug.
> 
> I want to go a bit more into the details of what this fic IS, essentially? The tags are as descriptive as I could make them for filtering purposes, but this is an erotic romance between a human Goro and fae Sumire that involves a lot of imbalanced power and sexual manipulation. Essentially Sumire gains magical leverage over Goro without his knowledge, and she uses that to seduce him into staying with her. Goro has opinions about this.
> 
> It's morally wrong but hopefully that's what you're here for, it's sexy as hell. <3 I just want to make it extra clear what kind of nonsense we're up to.
> 
> And with that, read on!

The town of Shujin didn’t impress Goro at first glance. Or second glance. Or third. It didn’t need to be impressive, he supposed. It just needed to be the kind of place where a callous, corrupt monster could squat in filth and supply his wretched superior with money and conscripts, in exchange for the right to hurt others with impunity.

_One rung at a time, I’ll climb this ladder._

He hefted his bag over his shoulder and walked away from the wagon station. His spine ached and his legs had knots in them, but he supposed he shouldn’t expect comfort from free travel. A bath and an inn would fix most of those complaints, and then Goro would need to get to work. He had contacts, and leads, and if he found evidence, then he’d be one step closer to the one he _truly_ wanted to destroy.

A paper in his pocket told him about a man in town who would be sympathetic to him. A bar owner, Muhen, had a back room for rent. Hopefully Goro could work out a chore deal to reduce his rent without losing too much precious investigation time.

The town had a dull feeling to it, with lots of people dressed in black and gray. Goro kept a close eye on the people he passed to keep his profile low. Act like an insider, get the information of an insider. Figure out who here is under _that monster’s_ thumb, and use him to climb up the next rung. Stay for a week, maybe two if things took a while, and then leave.

He glanced from his paper to the signs. The streets had an approximate grid layout to them, but with a few zig-zags that created alleys and dead-ends. He’d have to take note of those, take note of the people around them…

…Take note of the red ribbon in the corner of his eye.

It was faint, small, and only due to the drab fashions in the streets did it stand out. It caught in his mind when he saw it, but only after he saw it again did he start to actually notice. It was a girl’s ribbon, tied up in her hair, always facing away from him, but he saw it again. And again.

After so many years spent tailing people, Goro knew when he was being followed. He strayed from his note and took a left, then another left, toward an alley. His hand curled in his other pocket around the handle of a knife. He had barely been in Shujin for an hour and he already had an unwanted tail. He’d _show_ whoever-this-was what he did with tails.

He rounded the corner of the alley and unsheathed the knife, braced against his chest and ready to swing at the next face who appeared. He took a breath. A second one.

No one came.

He waited a minute longer and sighed, putting the knife back in his pocket and returning to the main street. He should know better than to get paranoid about hair ribbons following him.

* * *

Muhen was a suave-looking man. He regarded Goro like a lost child, but he showed the back room with a bed and a trunk and a little window. So long as Goro had all the dishes washed in time for the bar opening, Muhen could accept a few silver coins a week for lodging. Goro could balance his budget for six weeks sat that rate, longer if he ate cheaply or found an odd job for a few days. This was perfect.

His next morning, he hit the streets. He walked the streets to improve his mental map of the town and places of interest: the common market, the guild row, the slums, the town hall, the job board. He tried to listen to as many conversations as he could, but nothing of interest popped out yet. That part took time, and he had plenty.

A few people noticed him on the streets. A fresh face in a small town, of course he would attract some looks. He kept his head up and ignored them as he scanned the papers pinned to the board for money-making opportunities. A lost cat. Small home repairs. A merchant assistant, that would pay well but Goro didn’t have the time to earn it and complete his mission.

To the side, he saw the more viable jobs: the mercenary opportunities, things to slay. Three goblins. A witch in the woods. A serpent in the dam reservoir. Those earned a lot of money pretty quickly, and he might gain some reputation he could use to his advantage if he took care of dangerous creatures menacing the community…

A girl walked up beside him and looked at the board. He glanced her way and saw the red ribbon tying up her auburn hair. He noticed him looking and glanced his way. She was slight, delicate as glass, and her eyes glimmered like an almost-set sun.

“Are you looking for work?” she asked. Even her voice sounded delicate, like wind chimes.

Goro didn’t bother answering her actual question. “You were following me yesterday. Why?”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to frighten you. You just… caught my eye?” Her explanation sounded weak and timid.

“That’s not a serious response. You can’t just follow people of interest to you,” he scolded, ignoring that he was going to do a lot of following of people of interest to him. “What are you really after?”

“You have my word! I followed you because you caught my eye!” she said. “I’ve never seen anyone quite like you before. Did you just move here?”

“I’m not staying long.”

“Oh,” she said, disappointment clear in her tone. “Um, what are you here to do, then? Are you visiting someone?”

That was a pretty nice way to phrase it. “Yes, something like that.”

“Who is it? Maybe I know them.”

This good-spirited ingénue stalker could prove useful in the future, if Goro knew who he was even asking for. “Well, it’s something of an investigation. I’m here to catch a dangerous criminal, but I don’t know his name yet.”

Her eyes went wide. “There’s someone dangerous? _Here?_ ”

“Not so loud,” Goro chided, putting more warmth into his tone. If she was the kind of gossipy busybody who approached strangers and asked for their life stories, maybe she would dig up information for him. “I don’t want to involve anyone but myself in this matter, but if you do happen to see anything suspicious, could you inform me? I’m staying at Muhen’s bar, which shouldn’t be too far.”

The girl nodded. “Yes! I’d be happy to help with something like this! Could you tell me your name, so I know who to ask for at Muhen’s?”

“I am Goro Akechi.”

She smiled. Even her smiles looked delicate, like crystals strung on a chandelier. “Thank you very much. Please, would you call me Sumire?”

“Only if you stop following strange men around. I appreciate that you’re willing to help me, but I won’t be able to protect you if you get into trouble.”

“Right, of course. Thank you for your concern for my well-being.”

It wasn’t concern, but Goro wasn’t going to tell her that. He just knew that if a young girl turned up dead for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, panic would pass through town and Goro’s quarry might get spooked.

He turned his back on the job board and walked away, leaving Sumire and the postings behind. He’d wait for some better work to come up later. Maybe a roc would come by this area. Goro was a prodigious shot with a bow, and bagging a roc would feed him for three months at least. Low risk, high reward.

_One rung at a time…_

* * *

Over the next few days, Goro saw Sumire a few more times. She hovered near the entrance of Muhen’s bar, a delicate thing like herself clearly out of place in that adult environment. Her face looked youthful, but in spite of her naiveté, Goro had confidence she was at least grown, like him. She brought him some stew she made one night, and offered to help him with Muhen’s dishes once. He refused her help, but took the stew.

Goro asked Muhen about her one night.

“I don’t know her, but she seems nice,” he assessed.

“Has she lived here long?”

“Must have. She feels like a local, at least.”

Goro put her out of mind and focused on his investigation. Lists of who’s who in town quickly emerged. The mayor. The city treasurer. The captain of the guard. The heads of the guild houses. _Who’s the next rung in my ladder?_

“Excuse me,” Sumire asked him one evening, when she managed to entice him to sit with her. “Would you be able to tell me a bit more about the type of criminal who’s here? I’ll follow your advice and stay out of trouble, but it will help me know what kind of information is useful to you.”

With every fiber of his being, he wanted her to leave, but he couldn’t just send her away. He had to fly under the radar and not form any kind of negative reputation. Besides, she was asking fairly intelligent questions about ways to be useful, not just throwing herself on the fire.

“The man I’m seeking is the latest in a series of conspirators,” Goro said. “I know the name of the man at the head of it all, but he’s too powerful for me to accuse directly. I have to find a way to erode support out from under him by investigating and destroying his allies.”

“How long have you been working on this?”

 _Since I learned Shido’s name._ “A significant number of years by now.”

“And how many of his supporters have you destroyed?”

Goro didn’t answer her. He knew so much about the crimes of a dozen other people—merchants, historians, military officers, lords and courtiers—but the only actionable information he’d gathered so far was more names. None of the crimes he had taken to the corrupt law enforcers had been prosecuted to his knowledge. Maybe Goro’s list would be less like an erosion and more like an explosion as he named every member of the conspiracy all at once.

Sumire nodded and looked down. Some of her long hair fell over her shoulder. “You probably have a lot of enemies to worry about, don’t you?”

“If they were wise, they’d crush me now. But they’re not wise. They don’t know how dangerous I’m going to be for them.”

“Why, exactly, are you the only one who can destroy this conspiracy?”

“It’s not that I’m the only one who can,” Goro told her. “I’m the only one who _will_. There’s a difference.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Sumire said. She tucked the stray hair back behind her shoulder. “I suppose what I mean is, why does this conspiracy matter so much to you?”

Goro wouldn’t tell her the true reason in a hundred years, but luckily, he has an appropriate answer worked out already. “I can’t allow these people to continue ruining the lives of others. They must face justice, no matter what it takes.”

“Even if you destroy yourself in the process?” 

“If I’m not an idiot, then I don’t have to worry about that,” Goro stated. “Luckily, I’m not an idiot.”

Sumire smiled a little bit. “You keep your cards very close to your chest, don’t you, Akechi-san?”

“You think so?” Goro asked, curious how she could tell.

“I don’t want to sound rude. You’re just… rather closed-off. That’s the impression I get.”

“What does it matter to you, if I’m a closed or open book?” Goro asked.

She shook her head. Her expression looked a little wistful as she peered at Goro through her fringe. “Sorry, we should talk about something else. I’m going to make a fool of myself if I say anything more.”

"Just as well."

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?”

“There is nothing I would rather do than come see you.”

Goro hesitated. He had only noticed Sumire do it a few times, but she could flip between a nervous over-explainer and a forthright straight-talker at a moment’s notice. Her directness could be refreshing, since Goro liked being direct himself.

“You shouldn’t abandon your responsibilities just because there’s a stranger in town,” Goro said. “But I can’t exactly stop you from coming into a public establishment. Do whatever you want.”

“Do you mean that?” Sumire asked.

“I do.”

She stood up first and folded her hands in front of her, chipper and happy. “Thank you very much. I’ll see you soon!”

Goro watched her leave and sighed. This really wasn’t the kind of attention he needed. Maybe he should be colder with her, discourage her from getting closer.

He’d decide that later. He had some profiles to review.

* * *

A dark and stormy night descended on Shujin, eight days after Goro’s arrival. He had the lay of the land enough to start seriously investigating. Lots of shady people did their work on dark and stormy nights, trusting the rain and thunder to keep their enemies at bay. Goro was made of tougher stuff than storms. He’d weather a thousand storms to get what he needed out of these people.

He found one thing: lanterns on in Town Hall. Someone was working late, and Goro could wait for the person to emerge from a side door and then follow them to their residence. Then based on the residence, he’d find their identity, and with that he could interrogate… Thunder in the distance boomed, and Goro had to brush his soaked hair out of his eyes again.

 _Such a miserable night_ …

Around the time Goro’s teeth started to chatter, the door opened and a figure in a dark cloak darted out. Goro stayed close to the buildings while his prey rushed down the street, running home. If Goro kept up, his investigation would advance. He’d clear one more rung. Then the next, then the next, all the way to the top.

The figure turned down a street. Goro paused at the cornerstone, giving them time to check for a tail and assume they were clear, before he followed. He took a step forward—

—And looked down the same street had had just come from. When he turned back, he saw the street where his target had gone. Like Goro had been going in the opposite direction to them.

_What?_

He couldn’t see the target behind him. But they should have been in front. He felt like he was trying to write a word in a mirror. What to do? Walk forward and follow his body, or go back and follow his head?

“Shit,” he mumbled. He was losing precious seconds here. He turned around to follow his head and ran down the street he had last seen the target take. If he could just catch up, he’d be back on track.

But he didn’t catch up. He couldn’t find his target at all. They were lost to the storm, and with almost every flash of lightning, Goro felt like the street signs changed. He had done his best to map Shujin, but in thirty minutes, he was lost, and hopelessly so at the end of the hour. Dawn had to be only a few hours away, the rain had long since soaked his shoes, his coat had no more warmth to give him, and he had never empathized so intensely with drowned dogs in his life.

_How did this even happen? What went wrong?_

He tried to dry up under an awning for a few minutes. Okay, the cause was… not entirely lost. He knew which window had been lit. He’d find out whose office that was. Ask gentler questions about who worked late nights. Possibly raise the idea that the office’s owner had suffered a break-in, and they had to find the true criminal, before…

Before…

Before Goro’s fingers froze off, ideally.

He stood and returned to the rain, taking the long and circuitous route back to the main road so he could regain his muscle memory and find Muhen’s. His feet ached, the sides and backs burning with new blisters. His clothes carried his body weight in water as he crossed Muhen’s threshold and plodded down the hall to his rented room.

He saw a note on the door. The paper looked high-quality, but the words painted in violent red told an entirely different story.

GET OUT.

IF YOU DON’T GO,

WE’LL BURN THIS DOWN.

All of the ice in Goro’s blood settled in his heart. While he was out chasing prey, his prey had already found him. So much for assuming his enemies hadn’t noticed him yet. So the conspiracy knew he was here, knew he was renting a room? And Muhen was blameless in this, he shouldn’t be penalized for reaching out a hand to someone who needed him.

Maybe his decision-making had been compromised by the rain, but the only option Goro saw was to _run._

Back out into the rain, Goro hugged his sodden coat close like it would help him at all. He had nowhere else to go. His money was in the room, so he couldn’t rent anywhere else. Could he even afford anywhere else? Were they watching Muhen’s to know if he left? Would they torch his bar anyway if he went back for his belongings?

This time, Goro got lost on purpose. The more lost he got, the less likely they’d be able to follow. The less they’d suspect him of threatening them.

_On tonight, of all nights…_

He slumped back against someone’s wall, waiting for the clouds to break, or the dawn, or a miracle.

* * *

As it turned out, the miracle arrived first.

He saw her shoes first, small for her form, and looked up her body to her legs, her torso, and then her face. Her red ribbon sagged in the rain, but her face looked bright and delicate and beautiful as ever. He had never seen anyone look so much like an angel before.

“ _Akechi-san!_ ” she cried. “Can you hear me? How long have you been out here, you’re freezing!”

He blinked against the rain. The storm had eased, but rain still pelted his face. He gasped for air to answer her and found he couldn’t draw a deep enough breath.

“Shh, don’t worry. Let me get you back to your room—”

Goro gripped her arm and shook his head.

“No? Why not?”

He just shook his head harder. _Can’t._

 _“_ But you can’t stay on the street!” Sumire insisted. “Let me take you inside.” 

Goro hesitated, but he shook his head again. He’d just lead the conspiracy straight to Sumire, the only other person in this town who possibly cared.

“You’ll die if you catch cold here. Please, I want to take care of you.”

Her sweet voice, warm as the fire Goro so desperately needed, finally broke him. He held onto her tight as he could and accepted her help standing. He leaned on her the whole way home, his eyes barely able to make sense of the streets in front of him. With every step forward, he hated how much he leaned on Sumire. Pathetic, accepting her help like this. How had he gone wrong? How would he fix this? How could he make this up to her?

When Sumire finally stopped, he blinked at the building in front of him. It had a large door, like a barn, but when she swung it open, a space large as ballroom emerged. Two sides had tiered seating, with a clear floor in the center and doors in the back. Plush but plain carpeting in a large square dominated the center of the room. He wanted to ask what this place was, but his mouth couldn’t move.

Sumire pulled him across the threshold and around the carpeted middle, toward a ladder at the back. “I can help you up, but you’ll need to climb,” Sumire told him, regret in her voice. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall.”

Goro’s eyes focused on the ladder. _One rung at a time._ He curled his frozen, shaking hands and got to work, finding a rhythm. Up hand. Up leg. Up other hand. Up other leg. Again. Again. Again.

A trapdoor at the top lay open, so Goro climbed through and immediately fell to the side. Surely it had to be over. He could just lay down here and die now, drown in the air and finally be at rest.

“Ah—Ah, no! No, Akechi-san!” Sumire’s voice followed him into the emptiness. He felt his clothes start to rustle. Pressure from hands shifted the layers of drenched fabric aside. “No, not yet— _Goro Akechi, stay awake!_ ”

Like a breath of icy air, Goro felt his entire body shiver. He was weak and senseless, but no, he wasn’t going to sleep. He couldn’t, not when he felt so jittery. He tried to sit up and found Sumire help him along. His coat slapped to the ground, and in a minute, his vest followed, and then his shirt, leaving him dangerously close to being in a girl’s presence in his underthings. Like that was really the most pressing concern.

His lips still trembled, but Goro managed to ask: “Where…”

“This is a gymnasium,” Sumire explained. “It belongs to me, and I like to dance here. I’ll rent it to other athletics groups that need it, provided they don’t damage the floor.”

Stray pieces of information in Goro’s head struggled to come together. Sumire… a gym… Muhen… But he couldn’t think long about it. Sumire’s hands busied themselves with Goro’s pants. “H-Hey—”

“Hypothermia,” Sumire told him. “You need to get out of everything wet and warm yourself up.”

She knew the name of the affliction, and the treatment sounded vaguely correct. He’d have to make it up to her. Reaching down with her to spare them both the embarrassment of being too close to anything sensitive, the pants eventually peeled off. Sumire found a heavy quilt from somewhere and held it in front of her while Goro shed the rest. The quilt smelled like dried flowers.

“Just a few steps more, “ Sumire encouraged. “You can’t stay on the floor, you know. And I have a fireplace.”

 _Fire._ Goro wanted nothing more than to be a coal in a blaze. He gripped the quilt tight with one hand and let Sumire pull him by the other until he rested on a sofa, facing a small iron stove which, as promised, had firewood crackling happily inside. As soon as he settled, Sumire sat next to him, her form pressed against him and only the quilt and her clothes between their bodies.

“What happened, Akechi-san?” Sumire coaxed.

He shook his head.

“Please. I’m on your side. I want to keep you safe.”

Maybe… he could keep it simple? “M-M… M-Muhen’s isn’t safe. Anymore.”

“That’s terrible. Do you know if Muhen-san is okay?”

Shit, he didn’t. He shook again.

“I can check for you today. In exchange, you’ll stay here until you’ve recovered. Does that sound fair?”

“N—No. I c-can’t stay.”

“Why not?”

“…Dangers.”

“You have to stay somewhere, don’t you?” Sumire told him. “And… didn’t you tell me that you’re the only one who will defeat these criminals? You can’t run away at the first sign of danger.”

It wasn’t the first sign, just the latest. “Dangers to… _you._ ”

“The ladder to this place can be pulled up and hidden. No one knows it exists,” Sumire told him. “Almost no one knows that _I_ exist. I’m rather shy, so I tend to stay away from people.”

That didn’t match the girl who brazenly approached him at the mercenary board. “Why… me?”

“I told you. It’s because you caught my eye.” 

Her hand reached out and traced along his jaw. Her hands felt so warm and dry. Hadn’t she been out in the rain with him, for at least a few minutes? Maybe Goro had been sitting here longer than he thought. She smoothed his hair away from his forehead and turned his face to look at her. She looked lovely as ever, delicate and kind and almost… ethereal, in the low firelight?

How had she found him? What had she seen in him so quickly that made her willing to shelter him against enemies neither of them could name? What were her intentions? What if she wanted something from Goro that he couldn’t give, either because he never wanted to give it, or because he just didn’t _have_ it the way normal people did?

Without any heed for the questions in Goro’s head, Sumire leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

Her lips tasted sweet, like strawberries ripe enough to bleed over his fingers. As she opened Goro’s mouth to kiss him deeper, the flavor evolved into wine, light enough to breeze through him but leave behind a deep and intoxicating buzz. His head spun as Sumire leaned closer, her kiss turning his entire world upside down.

But… this was what he had been worried about. The thing he didn’t have to give her. He had been in this position before, with someone young and pretty who wanted his love. There wasn’t any love in Goro’s vengeful heart, he knew this. He had to stop her before she discovered that.

Every time her lips parted from his, he tried to speak, but the words couldn’t come out. She tilted Goro back to lie across her sofa while she stayed balanced above him. The quilt started to fall. “Su—”

She didn’t let him finish her name. Her kisses swirled his thoughts together until he couldn’t pick up where one ended and another began. All he could hold onto was a feeling that he had to tell her no. He reached one hand up and grabbed a fistful of her skirt. With all his strength, he _shook_. Maybe she’d think he wanted her to undress too, but Goro could at least use the space while she did that to speak.

Sumire pulled back when she felt his shake. She reached up to her hair and pulled on that red ribbon, sending her ponytail cascading down over her shoulders. She looked down at him with affection, with… adoration. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Goro felt his eyebrows cinch together. What was _wrong_ ? A lot was wrong, how could he even start, he was on the run from an unknown number of enemies and he had no idea exactly how much he could trust Sumire, especially now, because she wanted him and he _couldn’t_ …

Her gaze turned softer. She reached down to cradle Goro’s face in her hands.

“You have nothing to worry about. I will keep you safe here. Now, _Goro Akechi… relax._ ”

The tension in his body immediately cut. The fears, the stress, the shivers, all drifted away from him like boats set loose from their anchors. His muscles lost all tension as he sank into the sofa. Nothing but the strawberry wine from her kiss remained.

Sumire smiled at him. She leaned low for another kiss, which Goro couldn’t even keep up with, his body unable to respond. Her kiss just washed through him like the rain washed off the roof, the faraway drumming barely reaching this warm and quiet place he found himself.

And then Sumire stopped kissing him. He watched her lean back, dizzy and senseless while she shifted the quilt aside and reached between his legs. “Su… mi…?”

“It’s okay,” she crooned again. Her hand traced around his cock, soft as the first time she touched his face. “You’ve carried so much pain for so long. I know its weight. Just for now… just with me… set the pain aside.”

In spite of how Goro had no clue what Sumire meant by any of that, the last threads of resistance in his body vanished. He breathed, deep and shuddering, as Sumire’s touch stirred him. She moved slowly, carefully, but once Goro’s body got the picture, he couldn’t help but grow hard in her hand. Once she had a length to wrap her hand around, she started to stroke: harder, faster.

“Sumire—”

“I’m here,” she said, her hand stroking ceaselessly. “I’m here for you. I’m here, and you’re safe. It’s going to be fine.”

His breaths turned to gasps. He had no idea if it was due to his hypothermia, the scent of spring clouding his head and coursing through his veins, or the beautiful woman finally feeding the hunger for touch he had spent years ignoring, but he was _close_.

“I can see that you’re nothing short of wonderful. I want you to feel what I can see,” she continued. “Please, relax and enjoy this. I want you to enjoy this.”

He tried to reach for her—why, he had no idea—but Sumire took his hand and leaned close to him, her other hand continuing to grip and pull and turn Goro’s entire world to syrup. He still had trouble focusing, but he managed to catch her for one more languid kiss. With his lips still chasing hers, Goro’s peak hit, and he gasped and shook, this time with heat instead of chill.

“Yes,” Sumire whispered to him. “Yes, yes, just like that, you can feel it… Good boy. You’re such a good boy.” 

Goro wanted to correct her. He wanted to list every single thing he had done in his life to disprove this baseless assertion. But her pressure on top of him felt like the heaviest weight in the world, and the warmth coursing through his body kept him down. He had trouble keeping his eyes open.

“Rest for now,” Sumire told him. “I told you, I’ll protect you. You can sleep.”


	2. First Quarter

Goro woke to dying light flowing into the room. The flower-scented quilt covered his body, which was naked underneath. Because Sumire had stripped him. And… manhandled him. After she had taken him in off the street, after he spent all night in a storm getting lost while he tried to tail a potential conspirator.

This had to be the strangest turn of events thus far in Goro’s quest for revenge.

He sat up and looked around the room. The room was fairly large and airy, with several skylights letting in the beams of sunset. The sofa faced a wood-burning stove, with some cooking surfaces and dry goods cabinets pressed against the wall. To his left, a chest of drawers and an armoire with a crooked door stood. He noticed a very small running-water sink too, creaky and leaky but surely functional. To his right, he saw a table with two chairs, and half-hidden behind the seats, a steamer trunk with a very big lock on it. He twisted behind him to see the trapdoor where he had come—a long wooden ladder folded up inside, as Sumire had assured him last night—and behind that, a bunk bed.

And Sumire.

She had a clothesline run across her room, with Goro’s clothes hung from it. She fussed with the folds, spreading everything out so it dried evenly. Her hair was still down. When he looked to the floor, he saw her ribbon lying there. He leaned over and pinched it with his fingers.

“Sumire-san?”

She jumped a little and whipped around. “Oh! You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

More at ease than he had been in a long time, for a man who woke up in the room of a girl who had some degree of sexual intercourse with him. But he wasn’t about to say that. “I don’t believe I’m suffering from hypothermia anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s good! I’m glad to hear that.”

She smiled and kept looking at him with that fond expression. Goro looked away. “Are any of my clothes dry? Even just the innermost layer would help greatly.”

Sumire had the good sense to look embarrassed about that. She traced her fingers around the edge of his shorts. “Um—yes, these are dry.”

She took them off the line and flopped them over the back of the sofa for him. He waited until she turned her back to him and then slipped them on. At least having one layer helped a lot. “What about my shirt?”

“Oh, that’s dry too. Right.”

“Are you intentionally trying to keep me in a mostly-naked state?” Goro accused.

Sumire took his shirt down from the line and fidgeted with it. “You can’t deny that it’s an appealing view?”

Goro stared at her, unamused. “Please bring me everything wearable.”

Sumire finally caved and took near-everything off the line. His trousers stayed, where Goro saw discolored cuffs, and his heavy wool coat must have soaked up the most of the rain. It'd be days before that one dried. He set about dressing himself, his head clearer then the night before.

What a stroke of terrible luck. He lost his mark, drew attention from the conspiracy, lost his housing, and gained a girl willing to house him but who seemed to feel entitled to _relations_ with him. But if that had been her intention, she chose a very strange sex act to begin with. How did she find any pleasure for herself from what she had done?

Her whisper from last night curled in the back of his head. _Good boy._ Like Goro had anything good inside him. He had to extricate himself from this situation before she realized exactly how poorly she had judged his character.

“I’m dressed,” he announced, while finishing up the last buttons on his shirt. “And I believe this belongs to you.”

He held the ribbon out toward her. She blinked at it for a minute before she took it. “Right. Thank you. I’ll just…”

She crossed toward the half-broken armoire and hung the ribbon on one of the door handles.

“You only put your hair up when you go out?”

“That’s right. It gives me… more courage.”

Goro supposed that made sense, but with a few inconsistencies. There was no way a timid girl could have done to him— _for_ him, more like, because despite his confusion and stress, he felt better than he had in years—what she had done, and she had done it sans ribbon. But then again, the girl with her hair up had tailed him on arrival, braved her nerves to go to Muhen’s and see him, and even ducked in an alley when she saw a helpless figure. Perhaps intimate encounters were the exception to her rule?

“Do you happen to know what time it is?” Goro changed the subject.

“Nearly dinner. I think about six?”

Goro rested his hand on his chin. Muhen had surely missed him this morning. Had the man thrown Goro's belongings out? Was he even safe?

Some of Goro's thoughts must have shown on his face. Sumire smiled at him and offered, “You know, last night, I promised I’d check if the proprietor of that bar was okay for you. Do you want me to keep my promise? I can even retrieve your things, if you would permit me to enter your room.”

Goro gestured to his still-soaking coat. “Take the key from the pocket. Hopefully, nothing was destroyed.”

“Understood!” Sumire said, chipper again. She took the ribbon and tied it around her hair in a high ponytail. “I’ll be back soon, Akechi-san. Make yourself at home while I’m out, okay?”

He nodded to her as she lifted the trapdoor, unfolded the ladder, and slid her way down with practiced ease. She waved to him from the bottom, and motioned for him to fold the ladder up. He did so, admiring the mechanisms that allowed the pieces to slide and fold so easily. He even found a little pipe that ran from the door to a small bell on the wall. He supposed he’d know to lower the ladder when it rang.

And now, to snoop. It was what he did best.

No weapons, thankfully. He only found a cooking knife, which he shouldn’t discount, but still. It was a point in favor of trusting Sumire if she didn’t have any swords or daggers to turn on him at a moment’s notice. Her closet and drawers held nothing but normal ladies’ clothing, each item pretty as Sumire, but still just clothing. Sumire’s bunk was the bottom one, based on the flexibility of the sheets. The top bunk's linens were stiff.

_Are these bunks wider than Muhen’s cot?_

Never mind. Goro would file that detail away for later. It was easily the least important detail in this investigation.

Finally, the trunk. It had a very heavy padlock on it, and no amount of searching through the room had found the key. Sumire must keep it with her, sensibly. This chest could have anything from a secret arsenal to her dowry in it, and Goro would never know unless he got the key from her. She’d have to trust him enough to let her have it.

He’d have to spend enough time with her for her to trust him.

Okay, he’d survive if he never uncovered the secrets of Sumire’s trunk. But everything else in the loft checked out. Sumire was entirely… innocent. She might legitimately be the kind of person who befriended strangers and took them to her home when they nearly died of cold.

_Disgusting._

He returned to the couch and sat. He had found some books—children’s tales, mostly—but would only disturb them if she took a long time returning. Sumire said he should make himself at home, but he wasn’t bored enough to read such silly stories. Nevertheless, it was slowly dawning on him that he had nowhere to go but stay here, if Sumire allowed it. She might allow it, judging by her infatuation with Goro. Then the only question was, could Goro keep this up long enough to get what he needed from the conspiracy? Or would Sumire lose interest in him once she realized he felt absolutely nothing for her?

_“I want you to feel what I can see.”_

…He felt a shiver down his spine, at least.

He eventually did read Sumire’s books. Fairy tales, all of them, with overdrawn illustrations. The books looked very old, but well cared for. Some of the stories had been bookmarked, always the ones about sisters.

When the sunlight finally vanished, Goro heard the little chime of the ladder-bell. A thought crossed his mind that it could be an impostor, but Goro figured this was his fault for not establishing a code with Sumire first. He moved the trapdoor aside and folded the ladder down for her.

In a few seconds, she emerged again. “Luckily, you packed light!” she chirped.

“Is Muhen okay?”

“Yes, Muhen-san is fine! He was surprised to see me, but I told him exactly what you told me, and he let me through.”

She pulled Goro’s rucksack off her back and showed him what she obtained. His clothes, his own books—thank goodness—his spare shoes, even his bow and quiver. But two very important things were missing.

“I’m sorry that your money isn’t here,” Sumire said.

“No, that’s fine. Where’s my research?” Goro asked, his frown returning. “Did the same people who threatened me steal it?”

“That would make sense,” Sumire agreed. “The ones who took your money probably took your research.”

Conspiracy enforcers, then. Goro wanted to hit something in frustration, but if he wanted to stay in Sumire’s good graces, he had to keep those impulses in check. He’d find a way to deal with this. “It’s frustrating, but I had a lot of it memorized. I could probably re-create it in a day.”

“Akechi-san, are you sure that’s smart?” Sumire asked. “You’ve already been threatened and robbed. These people are dangerous.”

“That’s why I can’t let them do what they want. They have to pay for their crimes.”

Sumire frowned, sympathy in her eyes, but she nodded. “You’re a very determined person.”

“Does that upset you?”

“Upset is the wrong word,” Sumire said. “I’m just afraid that you’ll get hurt.”

What to do? Goro decided to give her a smile. “No one’s hurt me just yet. I intend to keep it that way.”

She laughed at that, the sad laugh of someone who didn’t really know what else to do. “I should get started on cooking. There should be space for you to put your belongings in the dresser…”

“I’ll keep it all in the rucksack. I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

“You’re not in my way. You’re my guest.”

“All the more reason I should be unobtrusive.”

Sumire pulled the ribbon out of her hair and hung it on its armoire handle again. “Trust me, I know the laws of hospitality inside and out. You don’t have to stay out of my way.”

“Well, if the ‘laws of hospitality’ are in my favor, I’ll take advantage,” Goro quipped.

She laughed again and turned her attention to the stove, slipping her hands into a pair of stained oven mitts. _Overly concerned about burns…_

Goro turned his attention back to the clothesline. His pants were dry now, so he slid those on, but the heavy wool still needed a few days. Nevertheless, he had everything he needed in its pockets: his knife, a few documents claiming he was someone other than himself, a small stray coin… He checked on his innermost pocket, with the sentimental bits in it. It didn’t _look_ tampered with, and he found the last letter from his mother undamaged and un-tampered with. He’d have to assume that Sumire had rummaged through his coat, and hope she hadn't.

Speaking of which, he found a small metal case, the same size as a cigarette box, and slipped it into his pants pocket. With the slips of paper inside, he'd have sixteen opportunities to test his food for poisons and sedatives. Random tests would probably work, especially if the plan was to slowly overdose him on something.

“Are you certain you don’t need my help?” he offered.

“Relax, Akechi-san!” Sumire scolded playfully. “I’ll take care of this.”

_“Goro Akechi… relax._ ”

That shiver was back. Goro had to chalk it up to how long it had been since he felt a kind touch. It was just an over-reaction, sensitivity increased through deprivation, the way seeing in the dark became easier the longer you stayed in it. He could probably exploit that starvation for touch to win more of Sumire’s favor, assuming she was just acting kindly because of misplaced feelings for him. If she was actively a conspirator and his possible assassin, no amount of entertaining her would save his life. It just depended on when she got her orders.

He entertained himself with one of his own books while the loft started to smell better and better. Vegetables, a foreign spice blend, and a side of steamed grain, split open and soft. When Sumire served him, Goro thanked her and waited for moments when her eyes flicked away to dip a thin strip of paper into the food. He tested all of it, and the paper failed to turn suspicious colors. It was truly free of poison.

“Thank you for the meal,” Goro told her when he cleaned his plate.

Sumire smiled again, sweet and delicate as a fresh blossom. “I appreciate your gratitude. I’m fairly proud of my cooking skills.”

As she moved the dishes to a small bucket near the stove, Goro mentioned, “You know, if we’re going to fold the ladder up and down, we should have a special signal with the bell. So we know it’s each other, and not an intruder.”

“That sounds sensible! We can choose a rhythm from a nursery rhyme or something.”

“That works.”

After a minute of silence, Sumire said, “You’re going to keep up your investigation."

“Of course.”

“I suppose you’ll be safest here anyway,” she continued. “The ladder folds away, and there’s a few exits to this building where you can sneak out and blend into the crowd. You’ll just need to be extra careful that no one realizes you’re still in town.”

“So you truly intend to house me here?”

“I couldn’t just leave you on the street, could I?”

“You could have. Most people _would_ have.”

Sumire smiled again. “I guess you could say I’m not like most people.”

“Decidedly not,” Goro agreed, but with a little less pride than Sumire seemed to take. “Since you’re aware I’ve recently been robbed, I don’t have any money to offer you in exchange for shelter. But… I’m fairly certain that you don’t want money from me.”

Her eyes locked on his. Warm as sunsets still, and rich in the darkness. “Do you think less of me, for that?”

“Not at all,” Goro lied. It wasn’t that he thought much of her to begin with, beyond valuing the charity that literally saved his life.

“So does that mean you are willing to give yourself to me, in exchange for shelter in my home?”

“Your phrasing is a little blunt, don’t you think, Sumire-san?” Goro teased.

Sumire shyly tucked some of her loose hair behind her ear. “It does sound a little intense when I put it like that, doesn’t it? But you know what I mean, right?”

He nodded. “I do. And I agree. It’s a fair arrangement that meets our needs.”

“I’m glad you find it fair. That’s important in any kind of arrangement like this.” Sumire left the dishes alone and settled on the sofa.

“It is awfully convenient that you have space for me up here anyway,” Goro mentioned, just so she’d know he noticed.

“I… Yes, you’re right. Very convenient.”

Her voice sounded sadder, so Goro stood from the table and joined her on the couch. She glanced up at him, but kept her gaze down. He’d just wait for her to speak, then.

“I wasn’t always… alone here,” she decided on. “I shared this place with my sister. Or, I used to. She’s… gone now.”

“I’m sorry,” Goro said reflexively. That’s what you said about people who were Gone Now.

“It’s not your fault. She was… protecting me. Until the very end.” Sumire threaded her fingers together and clenched them. “After I met you, and got to know you… one of the things that crossed my mind was, I had a chance to protect someone else. Someone as… amazing as she was.”

Goro had a lot of impulses of what to say. He wanted to deny being amazing. He wanted to point out that sleeping with a handsome stranger was a strange way to process grief. He wanted to accuse Sumire of lusting for her late sister, just to provoke the raw emotions in the air and gain a sense of control over the conversation. But no, he reined all of those impulses in. He had to be pleasant for her, lest she throw him out for being cruel.

“I’m sure your sister is glad that you’re alive,” he settled on. Vague, platitudinous, but positive.

Sumire gave Goro another of her soft, kind smiles. Then she leaned forward and kissed his forehead. From the place her lips touched his skin, tingles fluttered across his skin like a gentle snowfall.

“It’s not quite time for bed yet,” Sumire said. “But may I sit with you?”

“There aren’t many other places to sit,” Goro commented, but he felt… looser, somehow. Like he was telling a joke.

“How lucky for me, then.”

Sumire brought out a basket of threads from her drawers—Goro had discounted them as ‘a womanly craft’ in his earlier search when he checked it and only spool after spool of thread—and revealed a miniature loom, fine as a comb, with a flat and thin ribbon attached to it. With her delicate fingers, Sumire started to weave the threads in between one another, adding length to the ribbon one painstaking inch at a time. She had no pattern, but her choices in colors looked masterful, creating a pale iridescence like a dragonfly’s wing. Goro could barely read as he kept glancing Sumire’s way to watch the shimmering ribbon grow longer.

When the lamplight grew fainter than the moon through the skylights, Sumire finally set the weaving aside. Then she took the book from Goro’s hands too, closing it and setting it on the cushion she vacated. He watched her carefully. She’d make her move now, either to let Goro sleep peacefully on his own, or to demand he accompany her to bed. He faced the options like a man awaiting a judge’s ruling.

She reached for his face again, tilting so gently he barely noticed the pressure, and kissed him again. She tasted the same as before, sweet fruit and dark dreams in the same breath. As they kissed, her hand traced down his neck, and back into his hair, weaving between the strands like she could make a ribbon from his hair. He found his hands resting on her hips. Then he realized Sumire was seated in his lap.

The dizziness returned. It surrounded him slowly, like a tide coming in, but the longer they kissed the more Goro felt like he was spinning faster than the globe. Holding tight to Sumire helped, and thankfully that meant he didn’t need to stop kissing her. His hands slid on their own from her hips up her back. Her hair spilled in every direction around him like a waterfall he wanted to drown in.

She pulled back from him after… some time. Goro had no idea how long. He blinked up at her, almost as confused and unsure as he had been the night before, but more… anchored, somehow.

“You’re a precious thing,” Sumire whispered to him. “What a lovely, good boy.”

If kissing her had not been enough to arouse him, her sweet words pushed him practically to full mast. She smiled and cupped his face. He felt like an incoherent mess, but she said he was precious. She _looked_ at him like he was precious.

She spared him the need to say anything by kissing more, but her fingers grew bolder. Goro’s buttons came apart one after another. The vest and shirt Goro had been so eager to reclaim were thrown back to the floor. With a few taps of her fingers on his hands, she guided Goro to the stays of her dress, loosening them and letting the bodice fall away. Her breasts barely had any swell to them—his archer’s physique meant he almost had a larger chest than her—but it matched her delicate body.

With a shift of her legs, her chest rose to Goro’s face level. When her hand returned to petting her hair, Goro knew what to do. He leaned forward and kissed between her breasts. Then to the left, and the right. And then he chose one and leaned, kissing and licking until he found her nipple.

“Mmnh!” Her hand curled and grabbed hold of a fistful of Goro’s hair. “Yes, yes—just like that, _good boy_ —”

He lapped at her gently, careful to chase the moans and whimpers and most importantly, declarations that he was a _good boy_. The only time he felt good in his life was here with Sumire, and he couldn’t imagine anything more important than doing exactly what she wanted him to. His cock started to strain against his pants while Sumire gasped with pleasure, but dizzy and drunk on the sensation of strawberry wine, he couldn’t think to stop. 

Sumire shifted him where she wanted him. First to her other breast, just to encourage him to lick and suck there, then back again. The praises she sang for him made it all worthwhile. Then, Sumire chose to tilt Goro’s head back, away from her skin and leaning on the sofa. Loose and pliant, he stayed where she put him. His breath came in gasps. He felt like he was on the side of a cliff, and Sumire would either pull him back to safety or push him off the edge, to be dashed to pieces. He couldn’t tell which one he wanted.

While Goro unsuccessfully chased that quixotic logic, Sumire’s fingers peeled open Goro’s pants and pulled his small clothes down. She grasped his cock—Goro groaned like he had been punched—and shifted her skirts above him.

_What…_

Sumire settled across his lap, and Goro choked on his breath as her body surrounded him, hot and tight and pushing deeper, deeper, how was Goro going to survive this? He barely had any stamina yesterday, and now Sumire _moved_ , setting her own choreography of circles and rises and falls, like a dancer using Goro as her stage. He tried to train his eyes on her face—distracted a few times by her breasts, bouncing with her rhythm and her own gasps and sighs—and found she had just as much ecstasy on her face as Goro felt in his body. 

He tried to say her name, but kept losing the syllables. Miresu, Resumi, Sumire, Sumire, Sumire, around him, inside him, taking the pieces of Goro Akechi and giving love to his broken edges like he was a whole work of art. Sumire, Sumire, _Sumire…_

Her hands came to a rest on his shoulders, where she clenched them tight. She twisted, gasped, and a high, clear _scream_ echoed in the loft. The clench around Goro’s cock had him crying out too, certain this would be the end of him, he would die of pleasure. He never thought that was how he’d go, and even if he did, he didn’t deserve it.

When the clench and the shocks passed, Sumire stayed on Goro’s lap. She looked down at him once again, her hands tracing up to his cheeks.

“How do you feel?” she asked him.

The only answer Goro could give was a strangled moan.

“You deserve to feel like this.”

The words clicked enough in Goro’s head for him to respond. He shook his head back and forth.

“Don’t deny me,” she told him. “I’ll show you how wonderful you can be. _Goro Akechi, come._ ”

And somehow, he _did_. The wound-up tension in his body snapped in an instant and left him gasping, gripping Sumire and the couch and whatever he could manage as her slight weight kept him perfectly and helplessly pinned. He could do nothing but _feel_ every ounce of pleasure she had wrung from him, wave after wave until all that remained was a deep and quiet emptiness.

She leaned close to kiss him once more. He had nothing to give her anymore, but he tried to kiss regardless. The wine-drunk sensation almost steadied him now.

When they broke, she whispered, “Let’s go to bed.”

She pulled off of him at last and stepped back. He noticed her legs shake a little, and a glimmer of pride danced in his heart. He felt like he hadn’t done anything at all, and yet, he still did _that_. She took hold of his hands and guided him, one step at a time, back to the bunks. She laid him out, spread the quilt over him—the same he used last night—and finally dropped her dress so she could slip in beside him.

“You’re mine,” she crooned to him happily. “You’re such a good boy, and you’re all mine…”

He heard her, but for some reason, he didn’t think to deny her. It just sounded right when she said that, like she named one of the simple and easy truths of the world. But… how did that happen in just the span of a day?

Goro’s eyes could barely stay open, so he’d have to solve that riddle another day. He just let himself sink against the bed as his concerns floated away for another day.


	3. Waxing Gibbous

For a second day in a row, Goro woke with blissful peace in his body and a terrible epiphany of _‘everything is going wrong’_.

He lay in Sumire’s bed. The top bunk served as a ceiling for him to stare at while Sumire slept beside him. One of her arms and legs stretched across Goro’s body, but her pressure didn’t bother him. She barely seemed to have any weight at all. Was that another curiosity of hers, that her body only contained mass when having sex?

And what sex it had been. Once again, Sumire had taken a loose thread in Goro’s mind, pulled it, and unraveled him completely. All it took was her mouth, really: her lips, her tongue, her words, and Goro had fallen to pieces. Perhaps he should have been wiser about his initial strategy. He shouldn’t have banked on manipulating a girl through sex when he had absolutely no history as a womanizer. Two nights with Sumire meant that he finally needed all the fingers of one hand to chronicle his carnal history. And without a doubt, nothing he had ever done with anyone else in his life came _close_ to how Sumire made him feel.

Perhaps… an adjustment in strategy was needed. Goro had to acknowledge the reality that, whatever Sumire did, it left him helpless to her. 

_“You’re such a good boy, and you’re all mine...”_

With her whispers still echoing in his head, Goro slipped out of bed and tucked Sumire in. He needed water. And probably breakfast. And then he needed some paper, perhaps a new notebook… but he needed money first. Maybe he’d take one of those stupid mercenary jobs after all. At this point, he couldn't afford to be fussy if he wanted to claw his way back on track.

He found half of a bread loaf among Sumire's pantry corner and cut off a slice for himself. Pretty meager, but he was used to hunger and didn’t need to ask for more. Once he had funds, he’d pay her back and it wouldn’t matter.

While he chewed on the bread’s crust, Sumire stirred. She sat up and stretched her arms high. Her hair fell around her body, graceful but wild, not in the modest way it did in paintings. Without meaning to, Goro’s eyes traced the curve of her back, the rise of her breasts, the slope of her hips. 

_Am I in too deep…?_

Sumire looked Goro’s way and noticed the bread in his hand. “You just helped yourself, didn’t you?”

“I’ll replace it, if it’s that offensive to you that I took without asking.”

“That’s not the same as apologizing,” Sumire said. “But I don’t think you’re actually that sorry, are you?”

“And you’re not actually upset.”

“No, I’m not,” she said with a smile. “I want you to be happy here, after all.”

That phrasing again. Sumire was truly obsessed. He’d have to stay strong during the daytime to make up for how he fell to pieces beneath her at night. “I won’t stay in this attic all day. I’m going to leave today to try and earn some money and purchase some essentials.”

“Is your coat still wet?”

“I don’t care if it is.”

She flinched a little at that. “I see. Um, may I accompany you? I need to show you the secret exits from the gymnasium, after all.”

Fine. He wouldn’t fight her on that. He just shrugged on his damp and heavy coat and waited with the most impatient attitude he could muster. Still, Sumire wasn’t dissuaded. She dressed herself, did up her hair, buttoned her own coat, and helped Goro put the ladder down.

Well, he’d just do his best with a shadow throughout the day.

* * *

Sumire asked her to come to the market with her first. “We’ll definitely need more food. Then maybe you can go to one of the jobs while I’m putting everything away?”

“You want me to carry things for you, don’t you?” Goro accused.

She gave him a chipper, hopeful smile. “If you would please, Akechi-san? I would greatly appreciate your help!”

The logic clicked around in his head. He might not be paid for any work he did until tomorrow, so Sumire would be buying the food, and until he could pay for himself he was at her mercy. He'd just keep an aloof distance throughout their shopping trip to make sure she knew he wasn’t doing this because of a sense of affection for her.

He stayed two steps behind her, keeping his head down while Sumire walked forward without fear. She really did seem more courageous with her hair up, but even as she strode forward with pride, almost no one looked at her. How the common masses could ignore such a beautiful girl, Goro had no idea. He had trouble keeping his eyes off of her at all.

She saw the grocer, the baker, the butcher, and the oil-seller. Goro accepted packages one by one, doing everything in his power to focus on the crowd around them and the streets they took. How had he gotten so lost that night? He thought he had a good sense of direction, critical for a hunter. On top of that, he had specifically worked to map Shujin’s streets before he started trying to tail people. Something else had gone wrong. Was it just the rain?

“Thank you for waiting!” Sumire chirped for him as she returned from another vendor. “This is for you!”

She held out a journal to him. Small enough to fit in a pocket, well-bound to withstand damage, and thick enough to hold a lot of information. It even came with a charcoal pencil on the side.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he told her immediately. “I’m perfectly capable of buying my own supplies once I have a chance to earn some money.”

“I don’t mean to offend you,” Sumire said. “I just thought I could do something nice. A small favor, that’s all.”

“Isn’t our arrangement enough?”

Now she frowned, hurt plain on her face. “I don’t understand. I like giving presents, and this is something you need anyway.”

“It’s a matter of pride.”

“Then, would you consider it a show of allegiance?” Sumire lifted the journal again. “To show that I believe in the same justice you do?”

The whisper in his head roused itself again. _“I’ll show you how wonderful you can be.”_ Maybe Sumire was a silly girl with romance on her mind, but she did sincerely believe that Goro was special. For better or for worse, Goro needed her to continue thinking that.

_This is how I get to the next rung._

Goro finally took the notebook. “This is far too generous. Please, let me pay you back.”

“I won’t,” Sumire told him, her cheerful mood recovering. “You have already paid me back more than enough.”

Did she value his body that highly? He had such vague—and blissful—memories of their night spent together, he knew it had been incredible for him, but what had he actually done to pleasure Sumire? Sit there while she used him, mostly. Shouldn’t he be putting in more effort?

No, he really shouldn’t, he decided. The berry-wine flush felt like it was seeping back into his head as he reflected on last night. Didn’t he already decide to accept Sumire’s desires passively? Why did half a day spent shopping with her bend his will so much?

The journal weighed heavily in his pocket, but the longer it stayed there, the more comforting the weight felt.

Once they reached the job board, Goro scanned its postings. Everything was either too easy and low-paid, or too dangerous for him to attempt alone. He stood there and frowned at his options for a minute before he shook his head.

“You could try hunting in the nearby forest?” Sumire suggested. “The local butcher is always looking for fresh game.”

“I need more money than what a few quail can earn,” Goro said. “It’s for travel, weapons and equipment, black market information, bribes… and on top of that, I have to reimburse you.”

“Akechi-san, I told you, I don’t need money.”

He clicked his tongue. Everyone needed money. Even if Sumire’s little gymnasium functioned as a thriving business, there’s no way she could ignore expenditures on a freeloading Goro.

“You should really believe me," Sumire insisted. "I’m a terrible liar.”

“Or an excellent one.”

“Even excellent liars aren’t perfect. But it’s honestly something I admire about you.”

“What? Why are we talking about me, suddenly?”

“You can just _lie_! You can say things that aren’t true and persuade people. I’ve never been able to do that, I just… can’t speak to lie. I was born without the knack.”

Never been good at it, hm? Goro half-supposed it would be idiotic to judge Sumire on her own terms, since a gambler with loaded dice would always swear the toss was fair. But, since they were on the subject… 

“Are you, or are you not, allied with a conspiracy to consolidate ruling power around Masayoshi Shido?”

Sumire reeled like he tried to punch her, but she answered, “I’m not allied with anyone. I’ve never heard that name before. Who is Masayoshi Shido?”

Well, that was satisfying for now. Goro looked away. “An egomaniac, and nothing else.”

Sumire nodded, but her stunned expression started to melt into a smile again. “See, that’s very impressive. I don’t think you understand how impressive that is.”

“What?”

“How you lied, just now,” Sumire said. She stepped closer and took hold of Goro’s elbow, gentle and graceful and without upsetting the packages he carried. “But I don’t mind. I don’t need to know the truth. Come on, let’s go home.”

* * *

At the gymnasium, Goro dropped both Sumire and the groceries off before departing again to walk the streets. He started filling the pages of the journal Sumire gave him with persons of interest from his memorized notes. He needed to take a second look at the staff of the Town Hall, check up on the allies of the various officials there. Maybe this went to the Mayor, but he couldn’t assume that egg-headed man was the conspirator without eliminating his subordinates from consideration. The clear skies and sunny streets helped immensely, and in basically an afternoon, he had re-created his entire network of persons-of-interest, with many notable improvements to his data.

_I won’t be slowed down. Next rung. Then the next. I’m coming for you._

Sundown drove him back to the gymnasium. He slid down an alley, behind a wooden fence that sported a hidden door, and into the storeroom full of punching bags and disused weights. Then an easy step or two around some curtains brought him back to the main gymnasium.

He found Sumire dancing.

That padded center created the edges of her ballroom. She wore a very thin gown, only slightly more layers than underthings, and held a wooden wand in her hand. A ribbon trailed from the tip of the wand, swirling and spiraling as she moved. The ribbon had the same iridescent color as the one she was weaving in the loft, and the image it made, encircling her as she twirled… 

In spite of himself, Goro stood, transfixed, and watched.

After a minute, Sumire noticed she had a spectator. Her scream, clear as a bell, echoed in the gymnasium and shocked Goro from his daze.

“How long have you been there?!” Sumire demanded.

Confusion blossomed in his heart. “Hang on, you should have known I’d be back. And I didn’t witness anything inappropriate, you were just dancing.”

Sumire clutched her wand close to her chest and curled in on herself, like he had found her naked. “I—I know, I’m just—it’s embarrassing!”

“We have literally had sex. Twice, by some counts.”

“I can still be embarrassed by private things!”

Goro shook his head. “Why would you be embarrassed by this, anyway? You’re very skilled.”

Sumire started to spool the ribbon around her wand. “My sister was better.”

“What does that matter? I've never met your sister. All I saw is your skill, and it’s impressive.”

“Oh,” Sumire said after a pause. “I never thought of it that way.”

“Trust me on this one,” Goro told her. “You can hold the dead as close as you want, but at a certain point, what they were or what they could have been doesn’t matter. You’re alive and they’re not.”

He watched her crumple a little more, running her pale rainbow ribbon through her fingers with her head low and her fingers trembling. It satisfied him a little, to say something true and stern and painful to the beautiful girl who had made him question his truth and self so deeply over the last few days.

It didn’t satisfy him more than a little bit. Seeing her small and sacred was an unfortunate side-effect that he didn’t like at all.

“...Thank you,” she told him eventually. “Shall we go up? I’d like to change, and then I'll start on dinner.”

Goro ascended the ladder and took a place at Sumire’s table, flipping through his notebook and giving her privacy to change or cook or whatever else. It really did look like most of the suspicious activity centering on the Town Hall concerned underlings, but were they acting alone, or on orders? If so, whose?

Sumire served the two of them—a peculiarly delicious mushroom dish, which Goro only ate without testing because he recognized the species of mushroom. He had a few questions about the kinds of people who rented Sumire’s gym. She had rental agreements with some fencers, some boxers, and some elderly ladies who used it to maintain circulation and flexibility as they aged. Most of the contracts had been drawn when Sumire’s sister had been alive, so she did very little actual work maintaining the gymnasium’s clients. She stayed in the loft or walked around town when the classes met. Goro supposed that might explain Sumire's independent means, but did she truly earn enough to support Goro? He hadn't found any ledgers or financial records when he searched her room.

When dinner ended, Goro helped her clean, but when he expected to settle on the sofa to read, he found Sumire in his lap once more, her legs kicked to the side. He had no idea how she settled in so fast, and like in the morning, her body barely pressed against him. Did she have hollow bones, like a bird?

Before Goro could even ask, she kissed him. The familiar summer-drunk feeling, growing more addictive by the day, settled over him as he kissed back, eager to lick the flavor out of Sumire’s mouth. She hummed and combed her fingers through his hair. Shivers chased down from the crown of his head as thoughts of anything else he could have done with the evening evaporated list mist in the morning.

He wanted more almost immediately. His body had never experienced so much pleasure in so few days, and the association kept growing stronger. When Sumire kissed him, it meant ecstasy. He tried to remember where she had put his hands the night before to undo her dress, but while his hands fumbled, she caught his wrists and pinned them to either side of his shoulders. He had never understood what it felt like to be a butterfly specimen on a cork board before.

Sumire broke their kiss and whispered to him. “There’s your gentleness. You hide it so often… But I don’t mind. I can bring it to light.”

Gentleness? What was she talking about? Goro didn’t feel gentle. He felt hungry. He wanted to tangle his body with Sumire’s again and again, as often as she’d let him. Whatever expression Goro had on his face, Sumire smiled at it and caressed his cheek.

“You’re so lovely… Doesn’t this feel nice?” Sumire coaxed. “Are you happy?”

Goro stared at her, lust-drunk and dizzy. What did she mean by that? Happy? What happiness could a vengeful vagabond have in the world? Glimmers of joy lit his path—a good book, a nice conversation, a delicious meal—but _happy_? 

“ _Goro Akechi,_ _answer me_ ,” Sumire ordered, voice soft as her silken ribbon. 

Dragged out of him like a splinter, Goro said, “I want to be.”

“But you aren’t now?”

In another moment, Goro could have lectured her. He could have written a book, volumes of books, about how he interpreted her question and his response to it. “I want to,” Goro repeated, half-delirious. “But it’s… I don’t know, I’ve never… been.”

Her expression turned inscrutable. Or at least, Goro couldn’t interpret it in through the fog of arousal in his head. She still cradled his face, so he turned to kiss her palm and encourage her back on track. Who cared if he was happy? He was _horny,_ and he needed her, needed her to shatter him in the most beautiful way he knew.

At long last, she kissed him once again, sweet and rich and intoxicating. 

And then she whispered something in his ear.

* * *

Goro woke up. The scene looked almost exactly like two days ago, laying on a sofa under a flower-scented quilt, staring at a wood-burning stove. Pale sunlight—dawn, it had to be—streamed through the skylights. But this head felt like syrup and the tension in hips made him squirm under the blanket.

_What happened?_

He pressed his hands against his eyes and tried to think. This kept happening, where he woke up after a night in Sumire’s home, not knowing what was going on. Well, he’d always deduced it before. He’d be fine. This was fine.

Except he had never woken up this turned on before. In the past, sometimes his dreams left him inconveniences for the morning. It had never been like this. This burned, this curled, this crossed every wire in his head and left him barely able to consider standing, let alone going about his business.

He rolled over. He hadn’t changed into his pajamas, but pajamas he wore. When had that happened? Why did he never know what was going on from the moment Sumire kissed him forward?

Why was it so hard for him, as a self-styled seeker of truth and justice, to _care_?

“Sumire…san?” His voice worked, but oh, what was wrong with his voice? He sounded like he was crooning for her.

She stepped around to approach the sofa. “Yes, Akechi-san? How did you sleep?”

He looked at her, eyes falling on her lips, and her neck, and her chest—oh, this was disgusting, when was he the kind of man who ogled women? He pressed his hands against his eyes again. “When did I go to sleep last night?”

“Very shortly after dinner.”

“Did I change into pajamas?”

“I changed you. Sleeping in your day clothes looks very uncomfortable,” Sumire recounted. “I had a feeling that you’d want to go out and continue your investigation, so it would have been rude to interrupt your sleep.”

What Goro _wanted_ was to grab Sumire by her wrists and see how _she_ liked being kissed senseless. No, even better, Goro wanted to fall to the floor and hug her knees and beg her to kiss him senseless again. He wanted to be happy with her.

…But, _no_ , no, Goro Akechi had crawled too far through too much shit to become the man he was, on the mission he held closer to his soul than his own sense of self. Too many rungs lay ahead for him to spend time laying about with a charming and gorgeous dancer. _No matter how far she can spread her legs…_

No. No, don't think about that. Don't. _Don't._

“Akechi-san?” Sumire prodded. “What do you want to do today?”

Goro took a deep breath. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. And he stood up. He nearly overbalanced and crashed to the floor, but he managed.

“…I’ll go out,” he decided. “Thank you for caring for me, Sumire-san.”

She smiled and clasped her hands. “I’m happy to do it!”

As Goro probably should have predicted, he accomplished absolutely nothing of value. The only comfort he had was that he didn’t walk around in public with an erection. But with every step, every turn, every minute, the seductive warmth that filled him any time Sumire kissed him followed. He couldn’t string together two coherent thoughts, let alone made deductions about criminal intent.

He returned that night, foggy and following Sumire around her home like a shadow, undressing her with his eyes and lingering on each part of her body in turn. A delicate ankle, an elegant shin, her powerful thigh, her smooth stomach, her adorable breasts, her slender neck, her lips, her _lips_ , he wanted her to kiss him until he ceased to exist.

After a dinner that Goro didn’t even have the sense to consider testing for poison, Sumire settled on his lap again, but she didn’t kiss him. She even kept her hand on his chest to hold him back from it.

“ _Goro Akechi_ , what will make you happy?” she asked him.

He answered before he could even consider lying. “The last rung of the ladder.”

“Are you sure? Could you be happy here instead?”

His face twisted up in confusion. “Why are you asking?”

Instead of answering, she kissed him, and the lingering hazy-wine in his body surged up to meet her, desperate, wanting, and she whispered—

* * *

—And he woke up.

The second morning was worse than the first. He had half a mind to rut against the sofa cushion until the pressure in his body finally released, but Sumire didn’t seem inclined to let him sleep in this time. She pulled the quilt off of him and looked down at him with a beautiful, _beautiful_ smile.

“What would you like to do today, Akechi-san?” she asked.

Goro wanted to curl up and do nothing, but that wouldn’t solve anything. He’d get through this like he’d gone through worse. He held up a finger. “I’ll… bathe.”

“I’ll fill the washbasin—”

“N-No, thank you. There's a river.”

Sumire blinked at him, but dutifully lowered the ladder.

The river froze him nearly to his bones, and even in its icy waters, he couldn’t think of anything but Sumire, and her body and her hair and her voice, asking, _“What will make you happy?”_ At least he could rule river-bathing out as an arousal abatement method.

And once home, Sumire kissed him again, and he wrapped her in his arms without a single intent to let her go, not in a thousand years—

“ _Goro Akechi,_ what will make you happy?”

His brain held two answers ruled by antithetical sides of himself. He couldn’t reconcile them and just stammered out, “I don’t know.”

She leaned close to his ear and whispered—

* * *

—And he woke again. Burning. Yearning. His labored breathing sounded obscene, even to his own ears. Before he even became aware of his own hands, they had stripped him out of his pajama shirt and seemed to be struggling with his pants.

Around the couch, Sumire appeared. She crouched down, her face level with Goro’s.

“What would you like to do today, Akechi-san?” she asked, honey soaked in moonlight.

“Fuck me,” he gasped in answer.

She still held back and asked, “ _Goro Akechi_ , what will make you happy?”

“You will, _please,_ I need this—I need this so badly, I—I need you—”

Sumire’s clever hands stripped herself and Goro in nearly an instant. She touched his chin with her fingers and loaned him the strength to move from the couch to her bed. Sumire sat and spread her legs, and only her deep breath showed that she might be just as nervous to show it as Goro was to see.

“You have me,” Sumire told him, and sex-drenched as his head was, he knew exactly what she meant. 

No position felt truly _comfortable_ , but he found himself settled between her legs as he slipped his tongue between the folds of her pussy. After the way her kisses tasted, Goro half-expected some other absurd and incomprehensible flavor, but no, she just tasted salty and a little sour. He hadn’t done this before. Sumire’s hands came to a rest on his head, and a sensation of confidence followed. He’d do right by her. He was her good boy, wasn’t he?

His own hands gripped her knees as his face buried deeper. She cried and gasped when he licked the nub at the top of her entrance, moaned and sighed when he pushed his tongue inside her, and every noise she made sounded like a joyful symphony to him. This was happiness. Why had he been so afraid of letting Sumire make him happy?

Like the moment he had witnessed her dancing, Goro settled into a kind of trance, just acting as he knew he should and, for the first time in ages, questioning nothing. Sumire’s noises and praise, “Yes, yes—don’t stop, _good boy_ , my precious treasure—!” drove him further, deeper, beyond anything he had ever imagined doing. He could spend the rest of his life on his knees and never look back.

Sumire’s hands clenched on his scalp as she screamed again, that familiar twist and spasm of her body telling Goro that he had been a _very_ good boy. He licked satisfaction from his lips and touched the base of his chin, where more of her slick had dripped. A moment later, Sumire reached down to haul Goro up to the mattress, her mouth capturing his while her hand reached between his legs and—

“Aaa—aaaaggh, _Sumire!_ Sumire—Sumi—!”

His body too tense to last, Goro spilled into her hand, shaking and boneless and falling to the mattress in spite of Sumire’s attempts to hold him up.

“Are you happy now?” she asked him.

Goro sighed, “ _Yes_ .” Finally, _finally_ , he felt happy, deep in his heart and without complication.

Sumire giggled and slipped down onto the bed, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m glad. How about we spend today like this, hm?”

That sounded like heaven. “As you wish.”


	4. Full Moon

_So, this is bliss…_

Sumire’s delicate, clever hands wove her ribbon around one of Goro’s wrists. She reached further, looping it around the bedposts, before she brought the tail to his other wrist. When she was finished, Goro could wiggle, but not move.

“How does that feel?” she asked from her seat on his chest.

“Good,” Goro replied with a sigh. Spread out beneath Sumire like a feast, like a prize, she could do anything to him. He had been in this pose a lot over the last two weeks—or was it three by now? Maybe longer? He had lost count. This was the first time she added the excitement of binding him.

She leaned down to kiss him, pleasure poured into his body when she did. “I’m glad. You’re such a good boy for me.”

Goro’s eyes slid shut at her praise. Hearing her call him ‘good boy’ heated his blood almost as well as kissing these days. Behind Sumire’s back, his cock lay flushed and heavy against his stomach, eager but patient. Sumire took good care of him no matter what.

He had no idea what he had done to deserve her.

“Are you ready?” she checked. 

Goro nodded. Sumire brushed his hair away from his face and shifted forward, toward his shoulders, and finally straddling his mouth. Her impeccable balance kept her just where she needed to be for Goro’s tongue to stretch up and lick her pussy. The flavor of her body was practically his favorite taste now. He had strained his jaw a few times at first, but it seemed those muscles could be exercised, because holding his mouth open to lathe and lap between Sumire’s legs barely took any effort.

“Your m-mouth feels like—a miracle,” Sumire panted above him. He took intense pride in how quickly _he_ could unravel _her_ these days. Truly, his finest skill. “Good boy, yes—good—very _good_ —!”

Goro could finish her off. If he gripped her hips and could keep her right at the angle where his tongue danced across her clit, she’d scream and shake and fall apart for him. But when he reached with his hands, the ribbons went taut and held him back. He twisted his hands around to grip the ribbon instead, left at Sumire’s mercy once again. 

She wanted to tease herself today. The slow gyration of her hips kept her most sensitive zones out of his reach for long enough to make her come. He had so little space to breathe. He didn’t think he _needed_ to breathe, actually. He laid there, giving everything his mouth could give, and waited for her to find his offering pleasing.

“Good boy,” she repeated. “Good, Goro, please, _I love you_ —”

He heard the bunk frame creak as Sumire gripped the posts and finally gave up on teasing herself. She pressed her pussy against Goro’s mouth, and he knew exactly where he needed to be to send lightning coursing through her body. He had no space in his mind to contemplate what Sumire had said, too full of _need_ and _fuck_ and _good boy._

Goro’s tongue sent Sumire to the peak quickly—because of course he could. Even in the blissful daze of sex that had dominated the last few weeks, Goro couldn’t shake his personal obsession with excellence. Sumire called him a good boy, so he had to _be_ a good boy. He loved the way he could make her twist like a flame.

When her climax passed, she melted down close to Goro’s body, hugging him around his shoulders while his still-bound wrists lay pinned to each side. She was a little too short for her hips to match with Goro’s when she hugged him so close to the neck, but it didn’t stop his hips from bucking a little. 

“You’re so _wonderful_ ,” Sumire sighed to him. “You’re absolutely magnificent, and you’re mine. I just can’t believe it.” 

The pillow talk drew Goro’s attention to something curious. “You…” _said ‘I love you’_ “…used my first name.” 

Her sex-blush grows even redder. “Oh—I didn’t ask, I didn’t mean to be rude! Is it alright?”

“It’s fine,” Goro reassured her. “But I’m either Akechi-san or Goro Akechi. You use my full name a lot.”

Sumire turned her face into Goro’s shoulder, pressing there. Hiding.

“…Why?”

She kissed his shoulder, and when she lifted up again, she sat back against Goro’s cock. A wave of pleasure washed over him to finally feel her body.

“I like the way it sounds,” she explained, still not quite meeting his eyes. “And it feels powerful to say. My _Goro Akechi._ ”

Timed with her words, her hips shifted back just a little bit more as her pussy dragged against his cock. A moan dragged out of him as his heart—no, his soul?—felt like it was trembling. With the power of a prayer’s call and response, Goro shook with the force of how _hers_ he truly was. 

With a few more rocks, his cock slipped inside of her, and Goro gripped the ribbons binding him again as she pulled a howl from his chest. The ribbons tugged but didn’t tear, holding him in place while Sumire rode him at her leisure. He had nothing to do but lay there and watch her, stamina of an athlete and beauty of an angel, as she fucked him into yet another blissful, loving stupor.

By the time he hit his peak, Goro cared very little about what Sumire called him, so long as she called him ‘hers.’

* * *

The loft above the gymnasium felt like home. Goro hadn’t had any place to call home since he was a child.

They had a lot of sex. Unimaginable amounts of sex, to the point where Goro felt grateful that neither of them had started to chafe. Sumire always initiated, and since Goro now lived on such a hair-trigger edge of arousal, he was always ready to surrender from the moment Sumire kissed him.

But they didn’t _just_ have sex. Sumire wove ribbons, Goro read books. Sumire unearthed playing cards from somewhere and Goro taught her the rules of betting games. Just like she had said, she couldn’t lie to save her life. Goro learned her tells quickly, but she had a knack for exaggerating okay hands into great ones when it came to bluffing. Goro still usually won, since he could deceive _and_ count cards, but they weren’t actually betting anything, so the games just served to make each other laugh. After a while, when Goro noticed his bow and arrows starting to gather dust in the corner, he started hunting, like Sumire had suggested the day after she agreed to shelter Goro from attackers. Anything small they’d cook themselves, anything big could sell to the butcher.

She gave him a thin black ribbon and tied it in his hair any time he left to hunt. “To protect you,” she said.

“You know this doesn’t help. It’s superstition at its finest,” he chided with a smirk.

“I appreciate that you indulge me. It makes me less scared that you’ll go and never come back.”

“I’ll come back,” Goro promised, then he kissed her hand. 

Out in the forest, the scent of earth surrounded him, fresh and alive and growing. He’d had a lot of luck with birds, but today, he had great confidence he could bag a deer. He had a very good sense of their trails by now, so if he just waited, one would surely come by. Sumire would know how to treat a side of venison so well, and the money from the extra meat would go very far. Goro had read all his books, so a fresh one would make quiet afternoons in the loft much nicer. And maybe he could surprise Sumire. She talked about a bakery in the south side of town, and how she had to use her every ounce of self-discipline to only get one treat a week, otherwise she’d eat nothing but sweets. After she talked it up so much, his curiosity made him want to try it too. If he came home with meat and sugar, she’d be over the moon… 

The forest floor rustled and Goro held his breath as his prize stepped into view. Wild antlers, a proud chest, long legs… an incredible specimen, and a delicious dinner.

He nocked an arrow. Waited. Drew it back. Waited. Aimed. Waited a little more, to see if the deer would move at the last second.

Then _loose_. 

The arrow struck true, right behind the front leg. It brayed a little and fell to the ground and other beasts that Goro had ignored sprinted away from the sign of danger. Goro just smiled and approached his kill. The arrow struck so cleanly he could probably even re-use it. He reached into his pack to tie up the animal and bring it back to town, his steps full of pride and excitement.

Maybe a mile out from town, Goro’s path led him along a steep slide, a kind of cliff no more than twenty feet tall. But as he approached, he heard… voices.

“…the position I’m in! I’ve been nothing but loyal, and grateful for his support, I just need more time!” The man had a deep voice, but a hysteric cadence. A man at the end of his rope.

Reflexes kicked in. Goro had heard dozens of conversations like that and he knew exactly what was going on. He lowered his kill to the ground and dropped onto his stomach after it, crawling closer to the conversation, inch by inch.

“You know he doesn't hand out favors like that for free,” a second voice, more menacing, told him. “He expects support in return, got it?” 

Goro finally reached the edge and peered over at the lower glen. Four men stood, clearly three-on-one. One was the egg-headed mayor of Shujin, dressed for his station and clearly sweating from fear. The other three looked like mercenaries. Their leader had a shirt with no sleeves, showing his impressive musculature and a mantle of colorful tattoos across his shoulders. 

“But at this point, what he’s asking is impossible! If I haven’t been able to do it by now, then it simply can’t be done!” 

The leader-like thug pulled a knife out and pointed it at the mayor. “You want me to go back with a sack full of your shitty excuses, huh? You think that’d go over well?” 

“Just tell Shido-san that I need more time! A—A month, I can fix this in a month!” 

Shido-san. All at once, the fury and loss and pain that Goro felt since the moment his mother died returned. Everything Shido had inflicted on him through such casual malice meant that he deserved to die, and Goro had vowed to destroy him. Once those vengeful feelings settled back in the familiar pit of Goro's stomach, shame welled up inside. What had Goro been doing all this time? Playing house with a pretty girl? Hunting for her and wanting nothing more than to surprise her with some cake?!

_What is wrong with me? How did a girl make me forget about my life’s work?!_

Goro watched the thug draw closer to the mayor. “I got my orders. He told me you might weasel out of your deadline. If you can’t deliver what you owe Shido-san in three days, I'll gut you. You understand?” 

The mayor whimpered while Goro secretly nodded. He had three days to convince the mayor to name the next rungs in the conspiracy's ladder. The thuggish man obviously had a direct line to Shido, but if Goro tried to skip that many rungs, he’d fall for sure. 

“I—I…” the mayor stammered.

“Great. You understand. Glad we had this talk. You better get going.”

The mayor rushed off down the path, and the other thugs hung around for a few more minutes, not saying anything of value, but making Goro’s escape difficult. He lay on the ground, breathing as quietly as he could, and waited for them to leave.

Eventually, they did. Goro waited to give them a head start, then picked up his deer, and sprinted the rest of the way back.

* * *

“I found the next rung!” he announced to Sumire the instant he arrived back at the loft. “The mayor of Shujin is taking orders from Shido, and an enforcer is blackmailing him to finish whatever was assigned to him in three days. That’s my window of opportunity to find the mayor and get him to name as many of his co-conspirators as possible. Or if he can’t name them, locations work—”

Goro hadn’t been paying any attention to where Sumire was until he felt her hands on his face. She stared up at him, confusion and fear in her warm, sunset eyes.

“What are you talking about? I thought you went hunting!” Sumire said.

“I overheard them talking in the woods! And by the by, dinner is absolutely the least of my concerns." He'd sold his deer and kept a few pounds of its meat, but mostly because he had too much work to do to turn up his nose at food or money. "I know who I need to speak to to get one rung closer to Masayoshi Shido. I mean, I can’t express how frustrating it was that this advancement had nothing to do with my investigation. I just benefited from dumb luck. But I can do this!”

Sumire lowered her hands. “The reason you came here, to stop the criminals… what happens once you stop this one?”

“I find his contacts and go to stop them.”

“Go?” Sumire echoed. “As in, leave Shujin?”

“I left someplace to come here, and I’ll leave here to go to the next one. Once I talk to the mayor, I’ll know where to go next.”

“Well—I mean, how are you even going to get him to talk to you?” Sumire’s voice started to strain.

“Lying, of course. I’ve had quite a fair amount of success passing myself off as a member of an organization opposed to Shido who would offer protection in exchange for cooperation.”

“Right, you can just _do_ that…" Sumire said with a flinch, but she kept arguing. "What about from the other side? You came here to hide with me because of a threatening note on your door. If this conspiracy thinks you’re a threat, they’ll hurt you!”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take!”

“I’m not willing to let you take it!”

Goro narrowed his eyes at her. “That’s not your decision to make. It’s mine.”

“What about being happy?!”

“Who cares if I’m happy? My happiness is inconsequential in the face of bringing Shido and all the monsters who enabled him to justice!”

“Why does justice even matter so much to you!? There has to be someone else who can do this!”

“There’s no one else! It has to be me!”

“ _Goro Akechi, tell me why!_ ” Sumire cried.

“Shido is my father!”

The words are out before Goro can stop them. He watched Sumire's eyes go doe-wide, shocked at himself for even telling her. 

“…That’s why?" Sumire asked gently. "He’s family?”

Goro shook his head. “No, that’s not—that’s part of why, it’s not the whole story. He fucked my mother and then abandoned us to die in squalor and shame as he marched his way to greater and greater power. I’m going to destroy him for what he did to my mother! What he did to _me!_ ”

Silence filled the loft. Sumire took a step back from him, her hands clasping over her mouth. Immediately, Goro regretted yelling. She wasn’t the problem here.

“Look,” he started. “Everything… happened too fast for me to properly warn you. Your generosity in housing me these last few weeks has been staggering, and far more than someone like me deserves. And I’ll admit some of this is my fault as well. I should have been stronger, so you wouldn’t… start to think I’m someone I’m not.”

Sumire swallowed and lowered her hands a little. “And who are you, Goro Akechi, son of Masayoshi Shido?”

He took a breath too. She was trying to calm down, and so should he. “I am a man incapable of love.”

“That’s not true, you love me.”

“We fuck regularly. That’s not the same as love.”

“No, Goro-san, I _know_! You love me, and I love you too!” Sumire insisted.

“You don’t know the first thing about my feelings,” Goro corrected. “Maybe, if you’re willing to wait, and one Shido is destroyed, I can come back and… try to learn how to love. But I don’t love you, and I can’t until my life’s work is complete.”

Sumire’s shoulders started to shake. “Love is when the first thing on your mind when you wake is their smile,” she said, her voice soft and low. “Love is when you speak your mind because you're happy to show another person what’s inside of it. Love is when someone knows all the ways you've been hurt and they promise to never hurt you more. Love is when you’re happy with someone.”

Goro felt his blood run colder as she spoke. Everything that had happened over the last few weeks felt exactly like Sumire was describing. 

He was in love with a girl who wove her own ribbons in the loft of a gymnasium where she danced. And here he was, trying to leave her.

“…We can argue about definitions all day,” Goro said, waving his hand to dismiss the notion and clear the epiphany from his head. “Maybe you’re wrong and I don’t love you, or I’m wrong, and I do. But this is a vow I made to my mother years before I met you and nothing will make me give it up now.”

Sumire’s voice choked. “You could _die._ ”

“Any threat they could make on my life is trivial compared to the ultimate goal,” Goro said.

“But—killing Shido won’t bring your mother back!”

“And hiding your talents from the world won’t bring back your sister!”

He knew the shot was cheap. Sumire recoiled like he had hit her. But wasn’t that the issue here? At least the ghosts of Goro’s past sent him out into the world to seek revenge. The ghost of Sumire’s sister made her scared to set foot outside of her own home without a sentimental ribbon in her hair.

“G… Goro-san,” Sumire stuttered, but she managed to speak. “Can you at least promise… you’ll only go speak to the mayor after a good night’s sleep? I… want to have tonight with you.”

“I don't want to wait anymore. I’ve spent weeks wasting time with you.”

“What’s another few hours?” Sumire pleaded. “I want to put the argument behind us and have one… one happy night. And then you can investigate the mayor or whatever else will satisfy you.”

Goro wanted to deny her again. The mayor would probably be in his least stable state immediately after that confrontation with Shido’s enforcers. Or if he was such a procrastinator, the man would need three days to think it over and decide to cooperate with Goro.

But he looked at Sumire, so hurt and so sad, someone who believed he had good in him, and he couldn’t bear to deny her. “Fine. I’ll go tomorrow morning.”

Sumire stepped closer and wrapped him in her arms, face pressed against his chest. Her breaths hitched with tears, and when Goro returned her hug, he rubbed circles on her back.

They stood there for a long time, before Sumire separated. When she did, a normal night resumed. Goro helped chop vegetables and measure seasonings while Sumire prepared the venison cut, careful to keep her hands in mitts any time she even approached the iron stove. They ate—her cooking tasted magical, yet again—and settled on the couch, Goro with an old book and Sumire with her ribbon weaving. It was a dark ribbon this time, not pure black, but with deep navy and green shades running through to create a beetle shell’s shimmer.

All the while, he couldn’t stop thinking, _I love her._ Maybe he would never rest until Shido was dead, but Goro had never been happier in his life then at Sumire’s side. Her hope, her support, her joy, her shyness, her trust… The hurt in his heart at the thought of leaving her felt like a near physical pain, like she had barbed hooks embedded in his very core. How was he supposed to leave her?

He had no idea, just that he would. He’d leave her because he must.

When the evening wound down, a kind of tingling itch ran down his spine. If Sumire wanted to fuck him, she’d probably kiss him right now and let one thing lead to another. His body expected it. Pressure started to grow between his legs just remembering all the nights Sumire had made him her eager plaything. He tried to focus on the argument from earlier, or what he’d say to dissuade her from fucking him again, but too many whispers of _good boy_ echoed in the back of her head. So far, his greatest weakness against Sumire was nighttime. He wondered if she knew that.

Sumire glanced at him and met his eyes. She set aside her weaving and gently took hold of Goro’s hand. “Come on. One more happy night.”

He let her lead him to the bed, half-eager and half-dreading what was to come. He knew he would enjoy it, but another night spent enjoying the wonders of Sumire’s body felt like exactly the sort of thing that would kill his resolve for good. Again, he had to wonder if she knew that.

She took their pillow and fluffed it at the head of the bed, gesturing for Goro to sit. While he settled himself, she did away with the laces and buttons on her dress until she stood completely bare before him. She crawled onto the bed and settled herself between Goro’s spread legs, giving his trousers the same treatment her dress received.

“Sumire?” he ventured, unsure what she was going to do.

Her eyes still looked sad, but she smiled. “I hope you enjoy this.”

He wanted to ask _what is ‘this?’_ but Sumire showed him first. With one hand at the base of his dick to steady him, she leaned down and placed his head between her lips. The heat and wetness immediately made him shiver, and as she swallowed him into her mouth, the shiver escaped his mouth as a groan. 

Sumire had _never_ done this. Goro had fucked her with his mouth a dozen times—he was losing count—but she’d never done this before. What was he supposed to do with his hands? Goro couldn’t imagine pressing his hands on Sumire to control her body. He settled on grabbing fistfuls of his own hair, pulling taut as Sumire took him deeper and deeper into her mouth. Her tongue, her lips, everything sent him spinning all over again. His breath came in gasps while his vision turned to stars.

Her hands came to a rest on his hips as her head dragged forward and back. Almost on a reflex, Goro released one fistful of his hair and dropped his hand to tangle with hers instead. She gripped back tight, tighter… tighter than Goro though her delicate body could manage. But in the midst of ecstasy, Sumire could have held his hand tight enough to break his fingers and he would have thanked her. Everything he had to give, he’d give to her.

But for the first time in ages, he remembered that there was at least a little bit of himself he wanted to keep. For the sake of someone broken by the world, he wanted to break the world right back.

Goro’s anguish did very little in the moment besides keep him from saying Sumire’s name. He still shivered for her, cried for her, felt his body tighten and coil and reach its peak under her tongue. The familiar drunk and dizzy sensation settled in after, sapping him of energy, but as Sumire lifted her head to look at Goro, she just cupped his face again.

“Sleep for now,” she said. “ _Goro Akechi, sleep._ ”


	5. Waning Gibbous

The next morning felt the same as always: waking with peace in his head, warmth in his heart, and a lovely woman gently tracing patterns across his chest. Her touch felt soothing, like a lullaby.

“Wait,” Goro spoke up before he could drift off again. “I have to go.”

Sumire didn’t say anything. He reached a hand to catch hers, their fingers threading together. Just to be nice—when did he start caring about being nice?—he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

“I’ll be back as soon as I’m done,” he promised her.

“I know.” She shifted slightly to give Goro space to leave the bed. “I… hope things go well.”

It made sense for Sumire to be afraid. She hadn’t experienced anything like this before, this intrigue and mystery-solving and chasing the bad guys. Goro knew it would be fine. The mayor wasn’t anything special compared to others Goro had hunted and interrogated. He’d crack like his egg-shaped head, and Goro would be fine.

He stood and changed his clothes, washed his face, combed his hair. Sumire stayed in bed, lying still but watching Goro. Every so often he caught her eyes tracking him, concern and anxiety written plain on her face. He supposed she wouldn’t feel at ease again until Goro returned safe.

As he lowered the ladder, Sumire sat up in bed. She hadn’t put on pajamas after their… activities, and her bare body looked far too beautiful in the morning light.

“I love you,” she told him, with an intense and deliberate tone that said more than her words.

Goro loved her, too. But he just nodded and descended to the gymnasium below.

Once outside, Goro took a deep breath and kept his eyes forward. Leaving behind the rosy comfort of Sumire’s loft, he checked his notebook for specific details to bring up with the mayor to guide the conversation. Funders, enforcers, secret-keepers, enemies in Shido’s sights, allies benefitting from his protection, and above all else,  _ locations _ . Where to go next.

Sumire would understand. And now more than ever, Goro felt like he had a future for when all this was over. He had always had trouble thinking of what he’d do next after Shido’s fall, like Goro would just sit eternally on the rubble of his father’s conspiracy with Shido’s severed head for company. But things were different now. Once he had his revenge against his father, Goro would come back to Shujin. He’d take jobs with clerks and merchants, tasks that would use his brains, and if he needed exercise or fresh air, he’d hunt. Sumire obviously took pride in making a home, so maybe they’d get a little house together. Sumire could still manage the gymnasium. Maybe, in this imaginary happy future, she’d have the courage to dance for people.

With clarity in his head—for the task at hand and the future it would create—Goro approached one of the guards stationed at the Shujin town hall. 

“Excuse me,” Goro said. “I’d like to make an appointment with the mayor. I have reason to believe I can offer him assistance with a problem he’s facing.”

The guard looked at Goro strangely. It looked like a mix of bemusement and pity. “That’s going to be difficult, son. Don’t think there’s any helping the mayor now.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The mayor passed away. His secretary found him this morning. Some sudden illness.”

No. No, that can’t be right. Goro had two more days. “Are you certain it was a sudden illness and not a suicide?”

“Well, I don’t know anything about suicide. That’s for a cleverer man than me to decide.”

“Had anyone suspicious come to the town hall or the mayor’s house?”

“Wouldn’t know about his house, but a few days ago, some burly-looking men invited him out for an appointment, but he came back from that. Well, looked spooked by something for sure. Maybe it weakened his constitution?” 

“Days?” Goro repeated back. “Surely that was yesterday.”

“Yesterday? No, yesterday was my day off. This was…” The guard held up some fingers and counted backward in time. “Yes, four days ago.”

_ Impossible _ . Goro tried to think of the next question he needed to ask this guard, anything to get to the bottom of this, but his head wouldn’t cooperate. Impossible. Impossible. All of this was impossible! He had heard that conversation yesterday, he went home to Sumire, they had a fight about love, and then they went to sleep and…

…And Goro woke up four days later.

_ Impossible! It’s impossible! _

“You doing okay, son?” the guard asked. Goro must have had a truly strange expression on his face.

“I’m fine,” Goro forced himself to say. “If you’ll permit me a bit of gallow’s humor, it’s just dawning on me that I have… overslept my appointment with the mayor. I’ll have to find some other path forward for myself.”

“Well, we got an interim mayor now? She’s going to be busy for a few days, but maybe once the funeral is over, she can help you.”

“Thank you very much. I’ll keep that in mind.” Goro continued pleasantly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He turned his back on the town hall and started walking with purpose but no direction. Impossible. There was no way he could have naturally slept for four days straight. He ran through every sedative potion he knew of, and none of them had such long-lasting effects, not without serious side effects for the victim after a day or two. He had awoken that morning feeling totally normal, except for the  _ loss of time _ . 

...Was this Sumire’s doing?

He had absolutely no clues as to her method, but she had motive and opportunity. All of her arguments about Goro’s safety and staying in Shujin meant she had a vested interest in keeping him away from the next rung of the ladder. She was the only person with access to Goro to do… whatever she did to keep him asleep. But what  _ was _ it? Goro had a feeling that if he went to confront Sumire about this, the conversation would end with kisses that turned his mind inside-out and left him shaking and helpless beneath her.

He had to investigate.

Just because it was nearby, Goro started with the mercenary board. That witch in the forest still needed killing, but Goro had a familiarity with what witchcraft could do. That wasn’t the cause. Not the goblins or the sewer serpent either, and—oh,  _ now _ there was a roc on the loose?! Goro could have been rich in an afternoon, but no, he had his head so full of dreamy, domestic clouds that he hadn’t even checked the mercenary board! He was chasing deer and pheasants instead of a real prize!

He wanted to punch the board for being useless, but no, no. Keep in control. Figure this out. Evidence will bring him to the truth. 

The truth might be that the woman Goro loved had betrayed him.

No.  _ Focus, _ Goro. He needed help. He needed someone to talk to.

He needed to go back to the beginning.

* * *

Muhen’s bar looked exactly the same as Goro had left it: clean, classy, mature. Goro even found the man himself almost instantly as he washed glasses in preparation for the next night. The man looked stunned to see Goro, but welcomed him with a bowl of dried berries and glass of water.

“You left so suddenly,” Muhen said. “And I got worried when I didn’t see you around for so long. But you look like you’re doing fine, so I guess it worked out.”

Goro shook his head. “Muhen-san, a few weeks ago, a girl came by to retrieve my belongings. What was that interaction like?”

The man stroked his chin. “She had your key, and I knew I had seen you together before. She told me you had seen a threatening note, and since you thought your investigation was under threat, you were going to choose a new place to stay.”

“Did anything about her behavior strike you as strange?”

“She was polite. I appreciated that. And she assured me that you were fine.”

“Did you pass by the back room any time between the night I didn’t come home and when the girl arrived? Specifically, did you see anything on the door?”

Muhen paused at that. “Hold on, let me get it.”

He ducked away from the bar for a minute, but when he returned, he held a thin ribbon in his hand, stitched so that it held a twisted curl in its center. The ribbon was white, but with splotches of dusky red on it, like dried blood. Just looking at it filled Goro with a sense of danger, of threat. 

“I found this stuck to the door,” Muhen reported. “Looked like some kind of luck charm to me, but… I don’t know, it feels ominous. I held onto it in case you had put it there to protect yourself.”

Goro took the ribbon and ran his fingers over it. He had spent so many hours watching Sumire craft her ribbons, the origin was unmistakable. So was there even a note at all? Had it just been an illusion from the start? Sumire told him that she couldn’t lie, but did that extend to creating false visions?

“Guessing that’s not your ribbon?” Muhen prompted.

“It’s not, but it’s a worthwhile clue,” Goro said. He slipped the bloody-looking ribbon into his pocket. “There’s something I need to get to the bottom of. I have… reason to believe that I’ve encountered someone with abilities beyond my past experiences. I need to figure out how to escape her. She’s deliberately sabotaging the investigation that brought me to Shujin, which I cannot allow.”

“Maybe it’s witchcraft?”

“No, this isn’t consistent with the practice of witchcraft. There’s something else,” Goro tapped his finger on Muhen’s countertop. “Is there any history of this town that might help me? Past encounters with magical persons or creatures?”

“I…” Muhen paused. “There’s one story that comes to mind, but if it’s true, you’re in deeper trouble than I thought.”

Goro steeled himself. “So be it. There’s no way I can reclaim my life unless I thoroughly understand the nature of the problem.”

Muhen sighed. “How much do you know about the fae?”

“They’re small trickster creatures with wings. Pixies and such.”

“Some of them are like that, but some of them look and act human, save some quirks. They can’t touch iron, they can’t tell lies. That’s pretty much the only way to identify them.”

Goro felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He remembered the heavy gloves Sumire wore any time she cooked on the iron stovetop, and how she had outright  _ told _ Goro that she was born without the ability to lie.

“A few years ago, we discovered a faerie living in our town,” Muhen recounted. “Tricking merchants, manipulating people, sowing distrust. Maybe we could have tolerated that, but she took a shine to a young man. People that the fae fall in love with tend to disappear.”

“Where is that man now?” Goro asked, his heart starting to race.

“Safe and sound, thank goodness. We had to bring in a professional hunter from out of town, but he got the job done.”

“How did you discover who the faerie was?”

“The man got hurt badly in the woods, but made a miraculous overnight recovery. Then after that, he… wasn’t acting right. He said a girl saved him, talked about her non-stop, said he had to find her again. We figured he was in a fae’s debt. As soon as the hunter killed her, the man returned to normal. When a faerie dies, their debts are released.”

Goro looked down at the bar. He wished he could just stop and pretend he had never heard any of this, but in spite of his own desires, he needed the truth. “She had a sister.”

Muhen’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

Goro took a deep breath to try and steady himself. “That faerie had a sister who is still alive.”

“The girl?”

Goro just nodded, trying to keep himself together.  _ People the fae fall in love with tend to disappear. _ Was that what Sumire wanted from him? She was going to vanish him from the face of the earth to live as her slave for the rest of his days!? Even if Goro didn’t have a mission to complete, he’d sooner die than be someone’s pet! 

“Akechi-kun,” Muhen said. “These last few weeks… have you been  _ living _ with her?”

Goro’s throat felt tight, but he forced the words out. “I have.”

“And did you work out the terms? Any kind of clear contract for what’s fair and reasonable?”

Goro shook his head.

“That’s how faeries trap humans. You have to set terms in advance any time you’re dealing with a faerie, to make sure it’s equitable: if they do this, you’ll do that. That sort of thing. If you have a debt to a fae, they have power over you.”

More echoes chased around his mind. That time Sumire bought Goro a journal and refused to let him pay her back. Any time Sumire fed him and he did nothing but thank her. That quip she made, almost right after Goro moved in:  _ “Trust me, I know the laws of hospitality inside and out.”  _

“What do I do?” Goro asked.

“There’s one bit of leverage in your favor,” Muhen said. “You may have a huge debt to her, and that will need to get repaid eventually, but she’ll only be able to control you if she has your full name.”

Like a final wire cut, the whole picture made sense. A dozen times since he met her, she commanded him, always after speaking his full name. Stay awake. Relax. Come. Answer me.

_ Sumire didn’t need to drug me because she ordered me to sleep. _

As the silence stretched, Muhen’s face fell. “She already has your name, doesn’t she?”

Goro felt an absurd and hopeless laugh start to bubble in his chest. “My full name was almost literally the first thing I said to her when we met.”

“Shit,” Muhen mumbled. “Akechi-kun, she’s dug your grave. And you gave her the shovel.”

Goro shook his head. “I’ll destroy her before I set foot in that grave.”

“You’ve used her hospitality for weeks without terms and she has your true name. There’s  _ nothing _ she can’t make you do. You’re doomed.”

“I’ll think of something,” Goro insisted. “And I have one weapon at my disposal right now. She doesn’t know that I’ve discovered her secret.”

“You’re going to go  _ back  _ to her?”

“I don’t know what intentions her sister had for the other young man, but I have a reasonable sense of certainty that she wants to keep me here in Shujin. So long as my behavior doesn’t change, neither will hers. This will buy me time to investigate ways of freeing myself.”

Muhen looked doubtful, but he nodded. “I can’t stop you. Just… try and visit as often as you can. I want to know you’re still alive.”

Goro nodded. This ‘someone would care if he died’ thing was strange and unfamiliar to him, but he figured he owed Muhen for helping him get one step closer to the truth.

* * *

He spent a few minutes pacing outside of the gymnasium before entering. What did Sumire expect would happen after his magical nap? Goro would investigate, discover his lead was dead, and… not suspect Sumire of anything, obviously. People in love didn’t suspect each other. Perhaps Goro could feign confusion over the timeline. Maybe Sumire had an explanation ready and all Goro had to do was smile and agree. He hoped she didn’t plan to solve this by manipulating his memory. If he lost his memories of the forest confrontation or his conversation with Muhen, he might lose his lead on Sumire as a faerie, and he’ll be back to fumbling around at her mercy.

And what would happen if Goro slept with her again? He had absolutely no barriers whenever Sumire seduced him, but it’d obviously be suspicious if Goro resisted her. 

_ Nothing ventured, nothing gained. _

Goro rang their little bell in the specified pattern so Sumire knew he was returning. The trapdoor opened and the ladder descended, and Goro climbed up, one rung at a time. At the top, Sumire smiled at him, that lovely and precious smile that still made Goro’s heart feel lighter. Even knowing the truth couldn’t erase how beautiful she was.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“Something’s gone wrong,” Goro started. “When I arrived at the town hall, the mayor was dead. They said it was an illness in the night, but I’m positive foul play was involved.”

“Foul play? From who?”

“I can’t guess at who the assassin may be, but it’s clear that Shido gave the order. He eliminated an underperforming member of his conspiracy. I need to start looking into what the mayor was supposed to be doing for him. Maybe that will lead me to my next rung.”

The lies flowed easily, and Sumire nodded along with them. “I see. Won’t that be difficult?”

“Incredibly difficult, but I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do,” Goro said. “It might take weeks before I can uncover the truth, but I have to keep trying.”

Since he was looking for it, Goro saw the moment Sumire perked up when he said the word  _ weeks _ . “You’re welcome to stay here in the meantime. I don’t mind.”

_ How much more in debt to her can I get?  _ Aloud, he said, “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” she said, taking hold of Goro’s hand and patting the back of it. “I told you, I love you.”

Goro pulled Sumire close to him for an embrace, holding her tight while he looked over her shoulder. He supposed her true nature put her declarations of love into a new light. Something as clear and direct as ‘I love you’ couldn’t be a lie. 

She could be in love with him and a threat to him at the same time. He couldn’t lose sight of that.

The hug melted, and they settled into a usual, comfortable routine. They straightened up the loft. Goro helped Sumire dust by reaching the tops of shelves and the armoire while Sumire remade the bed. Then she challenged Goro to another game of cards, which he went along with, dealing and fanning his hand on reflex.

Muhen’s story repeated in his mind. The crime that had led to the sisters’ discovery, seducing some other man, haunted him, and the longer he spent with Sumire, the more he could tell why. A plain and simple envy plagued him. If that other man had been manipulated by Sumire’s sister, then fine, but he felt different if Sumire had been the one pulling on his strings. If she had kissed him, kept him, fucked him like she had done to Goro… He had to find a way to get Sumire’s side of the story. Even if he learned nothing else about the fae or her intentions for him, he’d never be able to keep up this lie if he had nightmares of a former lover in the back of his head.

When the hand ended—with Goro victorious once more—he took a deep breath. “I want to apologize for earlier.”

Sumire took the cards in hand to shuffle them some more. “You really don’t have to. I’m fine with how we ended that discussion.”

“No, it’s something else that occurred to me. I had insisted that you had no right to decide whether I risked my life for my investigation. But after thinking about it, I realized your concern for my well-being is probably due to how you’ve lost a loved one recently.”

Cards still in hand, Sumire froze and looked at Goro. She looked suspicious and hopeful at the same time. Goro reached across the table, gently eased the deck out of her hands, and replaced it with his own.

“Would you please tell me what happened to your sister?”

She flinched and looked down. “It’s painful… and private. I’m sorry.”

“Please, Sumire?” Goro let his voice go softer, quieter. “I want to understand why you’re so afraid for me. If the danger is really as great as you think, then I’ll have to stop my investigation.”

Goro had to thank his lucky stars—or, the least-unlucky ones—for his mortal gift of deception. He had no intention of ever stopping his investigation, but he could bait Sumire into talking if he implied that he might. She gripped his hand tighter and stared at the table.

“It was my fault,” she started. “There was someone… who wanted to hurt us. It should have been me, since I’m the reason it happened. I’m the reason she’s dead.”

Sumire already looked on the verge of tears, but Goro waited. He didn’t want to give Sumire any words of his own that she could half-agree with and create a false narrative. He just focused on holding her hand, soft and supportive and withholding all judgment.

“My sister and I, we were… twins. Once, I had gone into the woods alone, and some wolves chased me. I screamed for help and a young man from town heard me, and he fought the wolves off. He saved my life, but… he got hurt.”

Goro nodded, already taking note of the inconsistency from Muhen’s story. Since Shujin didn’t know their resident faerie had a twin, they wouldn’t know that there may have been someone there when the man was injured.

“Since I was safe and the man who saved me got hurt, it… tore me up inside. That’s not fair, you know? It’s not right that I would be fine and he wasn’t. But Kasumi was… smarter than me. And more talented than me. I think she knew something bad would happen if I tried to use my meager skills to help him. So she helped him instead. She knew a… a neat trick that would help him recover.”

With his new education in the rules of the fae, Goro nodded again, keeping track of the debts. Her sister, Kasumi, didn’t want a stranger holding a debt over Sumire, so she did a favor for the young man and bound him to her. He could easily see some kind of transferable property at play. Sumire could pass a debt of hers to her sister, and Kasumi could nullify it with a favor of her own.

“So that part worked, but… now the man had to find Kasumi, and thank her for saving him. Maybe he had thought she was the one he saved in the first place. Then some other people… I don’t know who, but… others in town, they thought Kasumi was some kind of wicked person for doing this. She accused her of seducing him. That’s why we created the retractable ladder. It wasn’t enough to just lock the trapdoor anymore, we…”

Sumire’s voice finally stopped, choked by sorrow.

“Take your time,” Goro encouraged.

“...I was so scared for Kasumi. I started to think… the problem was my fault to begin with. If the man hadn’t saved me in the woods, this misunderstanding wouldn’t have gotten out of hand. Kasumi didn’t deserve to be hunted. It wouldn’t have happened if her little sister wasn’t so weak.”

In spite of his intentions to let Sumire speak on her own, Goro couldn’t help but ask, “Did Kasumi tell you that?”

Sumire shook her head. “She didn’t have to say it. I thought that if I took responsibility for it, Kasumi would have gone on and lived her own life. But she didn’t let me. She… pushed me out of the way. So I’m the reason she’s dead.”

Goro tried to fit the pieces together. The latter half of the story seemed pretty consistent with what Muhen had told him, but with a few key contradictions. According to Sumire, her sister had no interest in the human man she healed beyond clearing her sister’s debt, but the second ‘transaction’ had been unequal for some reason. Not to mention, it would have been much easier if Kasumi forgave the man’s debt to her. Goro had to assume there was a reason why she didn’t.

That did not bode well for nicely asking Sumire to return ownership of Goro’s soul.

“Do you think the same thing will happen to me if my investigation continues?” Goro asked.

“It might,” Sumire said through hiccups. “You’re precious, Goro-san. You’re someone clever and talented and beautiful. I don’t think I’d survive if the world lost another amazing person because of my uselessness.”

“You couldn’t have known I was a person like that when you first met me.”

“I knew. I could tell.”

“How?” Goro pressed. He knew the answer had to be ‘magic,’ but he wanted to hear what Sumire would say to get around the issue.

She raised her head. Tears had spilled in crystal trails down her beautiful face, but she pushed her lips to smile at him in spite of the sorrow. “Because I love you. I knew the first moment I saw you. That’s why I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

He should have been angrier. He should have held onto his fury and hurt and betrayal. He shouldn’t have been moved by the story of a monster’s grief over a the death of another monster. He should remember that he wanted the right to choose his own life and Sumire wanted to keep him on a leash and let Shido and his ilk run free.

That should have been true, but it wasn’t. For that moment, Goro couldn’t do anything but take her into his arms and hold her. 


	6. Third Quarter

Goro lied.

“I’m going to talk to the mayor’s assistants,” he said.

He actually checked the hall of property records. He looked up the gymnasium and found it owned by a memorial trust, the legacy of some minor lord whose bloodline had died out. A record of the deed to the gymnasium itself appeared to be missing, because neither of the town’s two lending houses held it. When he inquired at the treasurer’s office, he could find no record of tax collection or inquires into _why_ the building’s taxes had been skipped. Diving into what he was allowed to see of the city’s books proved to Goro that if Shujin’s budgets were unbalanced, it wasn’t due to a gymnasium’s failure to be taxed. Goro had to conclude some faerie misdirection was at work. 

“I’m going to buy you a treat,” he said.

He actually asked around the town for the man with the tattoos on his shoulders. Almost no one knew what he was talking about, but once he caught a lead, Goro realized the man had come in from out of town, pre-paid for two weeks at an inn on the edge of town. It seemed he was staying around after completing his duty, possibly to supervise the fallout of the mayor’s assassination. Shido knew his weak link had to be removed, but the pieces needed to fall in ways that benefited him. Goro might have to leap for the ‘high rung,’ and he had dwindling days to do it. Buying a cake and telling a story about how hard it was to choose took almost no effort.

“I’m going to the forest to do some hunting,” he said.

He actually rented climbing gear and scaled the nearest cliff to survey the skies for the fearsome roc. A bird large enough to carry off a horse didn’t hide easily, but shooting true enough to bring it down took incredible skill. Luckily, incredible skill Goro had. When he brought the beast’s talons to the Shujin guard house as proof of a job well done, he accepted his payment only on the condition of anonymity. Then, he bought someone else’s freshly-shot turkey, and stashed the rest of his coin at Muhen’s. He didn’t know what to do with it yet, but having reserve funds calmed him.

“I’m going to pick a new book for us to read,” he said.

While he truly went to the bookseller, he actually stayed away from the romances and adventure stories and concerned himself with the records of the fae. Their courts, their hierarchies, their rules, their weaknesses. Apart from iron, Goro couldn’t find a single verifiable weakness beyond the true name of a faerie. By the same law that let them control humans, faeries had to submit to any human that possessed their name. Vividly, Goro remembered Sumire’s careful phrasing when she introduced herself. _"Please, would you call me Sumire?"_ Not an introduction, a request that he call her something specific. He trusted his instincts that Sumire was at least half of her true name, which meant he was halfway done.

“You know that won’t be easy, right?” Muhen advised when he heard about Goro’s strategy to obtain the other half of Sumire’s name. Every time Goro left the loft, he made sure to knock on Muhen’s door and update him on the investigation. “You don’t even have any idea how old she is. If she’s been doing this for centuries, she’s not about to be tripped up by some kid.”

“It’s not in my nature to let impossibility stop me,” Goro told him. “My options are limited, but not eradicated. The only other choice is to let her win, and I will _never_ allow that.”

Muhen nodded. “Best of luck, then. See you tomorrow?”

“That’s the plan. It appears that my slaver is comfortable with me taking day-long errands so long as I have something to show for it.”

“Still. Be careful.”

Goro visited the weaver and paid for a few spools of silk thread for Sumire’s weaving, curious once again about where she got her funds from. A nest egg she had earned with her sister? Gold from a faerie court? Or was the money a trick, transforming from coin to pebble in a shopkeeper’s box? He’d have to think on that while he read more books, hoping to encounter a tale where a human obtained the true name of a faerie. All the research he had done so far said that only happened when a human already had the upper hand, and a faerie was begging for their life. Could he deliberately endanger Sumire? How?

_Why do I have to plot_ her _downfall?_

It crossed his mind to be honest. Tell her he had discovered her true nature, and he wasn’t angry with her, but he wanted her to know how much his mission meant to him. He hoped she would have enough respect for him, the man she professed to love, to let him go and fulfill his life’s work before coming home to her, like a soldier returning from war. 

But, he already knew that wouldn’t go over well. Almost any time Goro had tried to charge forward in his investigation, Sumire held him back. If she didn’t already understand it was wrong to steal his agency, he had no hope of explaining that to her.

He returned to the gymnasium in the afternoon, finding Sumire in the loft, her hair freshly washed after a dance session downstairs. He gave her his usual smile and raised the shopping basket. “The weaver is starting to recognize me. She even let me select an extra color as thanks for the repeat patronage.”

“Ooh, what did you pick?” Sumire let her wet hair hang while she took the basket from Goro and let him climb up with both hands.

“A bright blue. Mixed with the red, it should create a purple ribbon without the need for luxury-dyed thread.”

“That’s such a great idea, thank you!”

“I had hoped you’d like it. There should be enough for you to weave a dancing ribbon.”

“I—I don’t, um… I don’t need another one, really,” Sumire insisted, her cheeks flushed. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Goro told her. “I hope I can see you dance with it someday.”

The flush grew deeper. “No, I—I mean, I—the only times I’ve danced were when—I don’t think I—”

Goro reached for her hand. “Please, Sumire. I’ve only seen you dance once, and it was on accident. I want to see it again.”

“I’ll—practice more! And I’ll let you know when I’m ready!” Sumire reassured him.

“Whenever you feel comfortable. Just keep in mind that I’m looking forward to it,” Goro told her.

_‘I want to see you dance,_ ’ he lied. Goro knew Sumire hated practicing in front of him, insecure about her skills compared to the late Kasumi. He mostly coaxed her to rehearse because she would only do so if Goro left the gymnasium to give her privacy. That gave Goro freedom to advance his own aims. 

Still, Goro couldn’t deny the kernel of truth at the center: he _did_ want to see Sumire dance again. He had never had interest in arts beyond the forced and false impressions he used to get people who valued those things to accept him. When Sumire danced, she looked like something greater than herself. Maybe it was another expression of her magic as a faerie, enchanting and graceful beyond measure.

Now that Goro was aware of the magic involved, he felt like he could dissect his feelings toward Sumire, separating the natural from the unnatural. The strawberry-wine tinged feeling that filled his head whenever he obeyed her whims or succumbed to lust was clearly a faerie’s influence. He craved it like a drug, but he recognized the feeling as something separate from himself.

But finding her smile cute, and enjoying the way her hair flowed through his hands, and feeling joy any time she laughed, and the comfort she brought when she nestled against his arm whenever they read and wove together, and the moment when he’d be buying food and he’d choose plums over apples because he thought Sumire would like it more…

Those were _his_ feelings.

It hurt so, so much to lie to Sumire.

In the calm after dinner that night, Sumire had started weaving her red and blue threads into the violet ribbon to come. Goro’s socks had holes in them from all his walking, so he darned them with much plainer yarn.

“Sumire, when is your birthday?” he asked her.

“Late in March. I think it’s the… twenty-fifth day!”

“You’re not sure?”

“We use a different calendar where I’m from.”

“Where are you from, by the by?” Goro continued with a casual tone.

“A little village in a forest. Kasumi and I left as soon as we were grown. We… um, it had been our dream to dance for the world.”

_Look how well that turned out…_ Goro’s needle kept moving. Sumire spoke a bit more freely about her dear sister these days, but still not often. “I wonder which of us is older?”

“It hardly matters, does it? We’re both grown, after all.”

“It’s a simple curiosity. How old are you? I turned twenty-four last summer.”

Sumire’s weaving didn’t slow either, but she hesitated answering. “If you’re twenty-four, then I’m the older one.”

“By how much?”

“It’s not very nice to ask a lady her age!” Sumire teased.

“Perhaps you’ve noticed, but I’m not very nice,” Goro countered.

Sumire smiled. “I disagree completely. You’re such a _good boy_ , Goro-san.”

The shiver down his spine, flush in his cheeks, and pressure in his trousers at the mere _mention_ of that fond nickname shut Goro up quick. He settled back into the sofa and cleared his throat to try and save a little dignity, but Sumire’s giggle proved he shouldn’t have bothered.

Almost all of Goro’s inquiries ended like that. He’d get too close to something Sumire couldn’t wriggle out of, and she’d kiss Goro just once, or call him a good boy, or run her fingers through his hair, and he’d melt. No matter how much he enjoyed melting, it frustrated Goro, because he had a job to do. On top of that, he was running out of time. Shido’s enforcer wouldn’t be staying in Shujin much longer. Goro had to be free of Sumire enough to skip the next rungs and reach for someone in striking distance of Shido.

The next day, he secretly snapped one of the cooking spoons. He left to buy a replacement, and while he was out, he visited the blacksmith. It took a bit of haggling to describe exactly what he wanted, but with a generous chunk of the money stashed at Muhen’s, the smith agreed to sell Goro a thick iron nail, long as a knife. Back at the loft, all it took was a moment’s misdirection to stow the iron spike in the one place Sumire would never look: Kasumi’s top bunk.

* * *

Goro’s time limit dwindled to a scant few days and he was no closer to uncovering Sumire’s full name. She had impeccable evasive skills when it came to Goro’s ever-more-invasive questions. Soon, his queries would be obvious enough for Sumire to catch on that Goro knew her secret. He had to do something else to get leverage on Sumire.

He started with a simple offer to massage her feet. Sumire had a little pot of cream she used every so often to keep her skin healthy, and Goro offered to rub it into her feet, ankles, and calves for her. Surely, her dance practice had been tough. Surely, she couldn’t deny his favor. Surely, he just wanted to help.

With her feet in his lap, he could feel all the same connections as a human—phalanges, metatarsals, tarsal, talus, calcaneus—but her construction still felt strange. He noticed the lightness in her bones again, along with a curious realization that Sumire’s sensitive pressure points didn’t match with a normal person’s. Her soft soles never flinched, even when tickled, while she jumped and squirmed if his hand brushed too close to the bottom of her ankle. In spite of every intention to stay angry that she had deceived him—and angry that it had taken this long for him to notice—Goro couldn’t help being fascinated by her. 

He wanted the chance to unravel her as thoroughly as she unraveled him.

Deciding to make a move, he lifted her leg a little higher, then leaned down to kiss the top of her foot. He glanced Sumire’s way in time to see her face start reddening. 

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Y-Yes,” she squeaked. “It is.”

He moved a little higher and kissed her shin, then lifted her leg higher for a kiss to her calf. His fingers stroked after his lips, tracing patterns like the ones she put on him. Next, a kiss on her upper shin. Then her lower thigh. Sumire gasped and went stiff when Goro placed two fingers on the soft backside of her knee. Funny, he had just done that to balance her, but she seemed to like it. He kept her held in place while his next kiss touched her inner thigh. Then higher. And one more higher.

He looked up after his last kiss, the furthest he could comfortably stretch on the couch. Sumire’s cheeks looked nearly red as her hair. A thrill started to flutter in his chest as he realized something: he had Sumire here, aroused under his hands, and he felt _lucid._

This could work.

He shifted her legs a little more. The leg he kissed lay in his lap again while he ducked under the other one, which came to a rest behind his back. That let Goro twist to face Sumire as her legs settled into a natural bracket around his waist. Colored by that deep flush, Goro saw astonishment on Sumire’s face.

“Still okay?” Goro checked.

“Of course! Please, keep going!”

He reached forward to weave his arms behind Sumire’s back, pulling her up into his lap, and then immediately _standing._ Sumire’s ankles crossed behind him and her hands came to a rest on his shoulders, doing more work to bear her weight than Goro’s muscles did. He stood in the middle of the loft, Sumire held in his arms, and he noticed for the thousandth time how lovely she was.

Her face tilted lower, closer to his mouth, but Goro was ready. He shifted one of his hands up to the back of her neck and half-stroked, half-pinched. Sumire shuddered in his arms, her head tilting back, and Goro had free rein to kiss and lick along the column of her neck. Her gasp of pleasure echoed in the quiet loft. A swell of confidence in Goro’s heart followed. Usually, he only saw Sumire in ecstasy when she had taken what she desired from his body. That scenario brought its own pride, that Goro was truly a _good boy_ like she claimed, but this was different. This took skill.

Spurred on, Goro continued to tease her, growing bolder and using his teeth to leave little red splotches along her neck. She grabbed fistfuls of Goro’s shirt and hummed for him. He kept up his assault against her skin as he stepped carefully, avoiding the furniture on his way to the bed. Just a little duck later and he had Sumire laid out on the mattress. He immediately set to work on the laces and buttons of her dress.

She reached one hand to his face, her fingers brushing his cheek and coaxing him to bend for her to kiss. “You’re incredible, Goro-san. Such a good boy, no matter what.”

Hearing her purr _‘good boy’_ fanned the heat in his gut again, but Goro had to stay strong. He turned his face to press kisses against her palm, one hand holding onto hers while his other continued its work stripping her bare. Sex felt like a fight in a way it had never before. It wasn’t just a matter of sharing pleasure together, Goro had to make sure he gave far more than he got. Otherwise, he’d never get the thing that he needed most.

Her dress fell away. Goro leaned down to give Sumire’s breasts the same treatment he gave her neck. He licked and kissed and peppered in some flashes of teeth, always keeping the other breast occupied with his strokes and rubs from his free hand. Sumire cried for him. Her hands returned to his shoulders and held tight, and her legs squeezed his middle like a vice. He had nowhere to go but Sumire’s body. 

Even with his head clear, Goro felt like he was falling in love with her all over again. He wished they could just stay like this, hide away from the world and embrace until they lost track of where the other ended or began. He’d never meet anyone lovelier than Sumire, and while she could probably ensnare a hundred bitter and broken young men just like him, he wanted to trust that she wasn’t deceiving him when she called him precious, beloved, and good.

He pinched one of her nipples between his teeth and sucked. Her sharp cry came with a buck of her hips. Licking to soothe her before biting again, Goro let his unoccupied hand drift lower until his fingers slipped between her legs. Sumire moaned his name—just Goro-san, not his true name—as he started to rub.

“Sumire,” he whispered to her, leaning a little closer. “I love you.”

She had her eyes squeezed shut, face twisted in pleasure, but her arms wrapped around his shoulders to hug him tight.

“I love you so much,” Goro repeated. “And I want you to feel how you make me feel.”

His middle finger slipped close to her entrance, pressed against it, but retreated. Her moan turned to a whine.

“I trust you. You’ve cared for me through so much, how could I not?”

Another press, another groan. He took a deep breath.

“I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me. But I want to say your name like you say mine. When you say it, it’s like you’re making love to it. It’s incredible.”

Her hands drop from Goro’s shoulders and twist in the sheets instead. She looks tempted. Is she tempted?

He leaned close to her ear and whispered. “Sumire, please. I want to say your name.”

She tilted her face back toward him, kissing his own neck for a moment, and answered him.

“ _Goro Akechi, fuck me._ ”

The words took hold like roots in the earth. Goro pressed down against Sumire’s body on reflex, his hips angled with hers but too much fabric in the way for him to obey. He kept his head low and his hands on as much of Sumire’s body as he could, even as he pulled at his clothes. Why hadn’t he stripped before doing this!? He heard threads tear as at least two buttons pop off of his shirt. In the middle of his frenzy, he opened his mouth to ask her name again, but words wouldn’t cooperate. The force of his arousal mixed with the raw burn of going without Sumire’s sweet, dizzy-wine magic. He kissed down her body while he tried to free himself from his trousers. The strain in his cock had been there almost since the moment he lifted Sumire off the sofa and into his arms, and now it felt all the more unbearable. He _must_ fuck her.

Goro hated losing, but it felt so, so good to lose to Sumire.

With his body stripped, he wrapped Sumire up in his arms and sank into her like a stone in a lake. She cried his name, _Goro, Goro_ , and he moaned hers back, _Sumire_ , taking a deep and choking breath after each one for missing half of her name that he wanted to add.

His body pinned her down, but Goro felt just as much at her mercy as when he lay back on the bed, Sumire above him, helpless to do anything but enjoy this magic they made together. Maybe he was truly depraved, if the only way he could enjoy himself was for someone to magically force him to. But, no matter how it happened, he _enjoyed_ it. He loved every second.

Sumire’s nails clawed at his back, and he bit her neck again as the sting flowed through him, mixed with the pleasure of his thrusts. Feeling so out of control and at peace with it all at once made him drive deeper, harder, she told him to fuck her and he couldn’t think to disobey her, not until the day he died—

His peak blindsided him. He had started that night planning to be in control and ended it shaking and twisting and gasping for Sumire. She held on from below, hugged him really, and let him take himself apart one more time, like he had so many times before. When he pulled out and fell to the mattress beside her, she kissed his forehead and settled in beside.

“You’re cute,” she whispered to him in the dark. “I love you so much.”

He weakly fumbled around for her hand and gave her knuckles one more kiss.

* * *

In the afterglow, Goro calculated the score.

He failed to get Sumire’s name. She seduced and controlled him again, and he had nothing to show for it. Several points in Sumire’s favor. But, Goro had successfully avoided her enchantment, which meant that as Sumire drifted off to sleep against his side, his eyes stayed open, staring at the underside of Kasumi’s bunk.

Mostly, he’d be out of time soon.

Goro slipped out of Sumire’s arms and replaced his body with their pillow. He pulled on his discarded underwear before turning his attention to Sumire’s clothes. The only place where anything of worth could be kept was the large trunk, and to open that, he needed a key that he had never seen. That meant it had to be something Sumire kept on her person at all times, hidden in a clothes pocket. This was his last chance.

The longer he rummaged, the less he discovered. Her stripped clothes had no keys. And neither did her coat. Or any of the other clothes in her dresser or armoire. His quick and thorough hands found every single fold of fabric that could conceivably contain a key, and they all came back empty.

_Now what?_

He looked at Sumire, dreaming peacefully. He looked to the trunk. He paced around the loft in a small circle. What was he missing? How was he supposed to get past a lock with no key?

No key…

Goro might as well follow a hunch. He sat down in front of the trunk and held its padlock in his palm. It looked to be made of brass, and plain on its front, a hole demanded the correct key. But as Goro ran his fingers over the lock’s face, he asked himself: was this _really_ a padlock? Did he actually feel metal in his hand? Did he register weight, or was it something else?

Just at the moment Goro started to feel stupid, he blinked. The padlock was gone. The steamer trunk was sealed with an intricate bow, tied from a brass-colored ribbon. Just like the ribbon Muhen had shown to Goro, there was never a padlock at all. _No wonder I couldn’t find a key._

He took a deep breath, held it, and tugged on the tail of the brass ribbon. It unraveled instantly, and Goro opened the trunk.

Folded clothes filled out the bottom. Ladies’ dresses and shirts and skirts easily accounted for half the volume of the trunk, but Goro had no interest in them. On top of the clothes… he had no idea where to look first. He found a pair of flower crowns, one with fresh violets and the other dried roses. A small hand mirror seemed dark and tarnished, but when Goro lifted it to investigate the few flecks of silver on its surface, he found it reflected nothing at all. A few glass bottles held colorful, unnaturally viscous fluids. Another one contained shimmering green flakes, each roughly the size of his fingernail. When he peered closer, they looked like loose scales. Secured against the trunk’s lid by a fine mesh net, Goro saw a rainbow of ribbons: black with silver specks like a night sky, patches of browns and greens to match a forest’s foliage, a lustrous red so bright Goro started to feel the dizzy-drunk sensation of Sumire’s love again… He blinked hard and shook his head to clear it.

_What’s the most precious thing here?_

Obviously, some items were sentimental mementos of Kasumi. Did that make them important? Maybe the ribbons, since they held the most power. Could Goro threaten Sumire with her own ribbons? If he destroyed them, he had a feeling she’d sedate him for a decade or two while she re-created them. What did the mirror do? Did it do anything? Or those scales in the jar, if they came from a dragon, then surely Goro would have some leverage, but which mattered more to Sumire? A rare magical ingredient or a human slave?

“…Goro-san!?”

He jumped at the sound of his name. Sumire sat in the bed, staring at him. 

_Last resort._

He dropped the jar of scales and jumped for the top bunk. His hand curled around the iron spike.

“What are you doing?!”

He raised the spike aloft, braced with both hands, and plunged down.

“ _GORO AKECHI—_ ”


	7. Waning Crescent

“— _STOP!_ ”

Goro’s body ceased moving. He tried to fight it, wanted with every fiber of his being to drive the iron spike in his hands as deep into Sumire’s heart as it would go, but his muscles didn’t even twitch. He stood over her, hand frozen, arms frozen, entire self frozen.

He had nowhere to look but directly at Sumire. He was able—forced, really—to watch as she processed his pose, the iron in his hand, the ransacked trunk behind him, and then his own face. Goro had no idea exactly what his face looked like, but he felt furious.

Once all the details sank in, tears slipped from Sumire’s eyes. She pulled the sheet up in front of her like a shield and whispered, “Why?”

He found he could move his mouth. “You deceived me, enslaved me, and manipulated me. This is the only way to get my life back from you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re a faerie who tricked me into your debt. And maybe it’s my own damned fault, but I’m not going to let you get in the way of my life’s work.”

Sumire’s face froze. Then she spoke. “ _Put down the iron and then sit on the sofa._ ”

His hand released the iron. It thudded to the floor and rolled under the bed. He didn’t even look at it as his legs turned around and walked him to the sofa, where he sat quietly. She didn’t say his name, but Goro supposed she didn’t need to. 

And that, Goro _hated._ Every inch of himself that he could feel carried burning rage through his body. In spite of his intellectual certainty that any manipulation was unforgivable, he felt the difference like the gulf of a canyon between what Sumire had done before versus now. She could tug his strings, distract him with her charms, omit and exaggerate to get her way, and Goro could accept that. Enjoy it, even. _Commanding_ his actions so minutely finally sparked the hatred he had wanted to feel from the moment he learned what Sumire had done to him.

He listened to cloth rustle behind him, and when Sumire came into view, she had a nightgown on. She dragged one of the kitchen table’s chairs over and sat across from Goro. Her face looked tense and tight, but she sat properly in the chair, spine tall as it could be.

“How long have you known?” Sumire asked first.

“Nine days ago, or immediately after you put me to sleep for four days and expected me not to notice.”

“So this is why you, um… you’ve been asking things. About my age and origins. And why you wanted me to tell you my name.”

“You have mine. It’s only fair.”

Sumire let out a little snort of laughter. “No, you don’t know the first thing about what’s fair.”

“I hardly call any of this fair. You used a magical ribbon to leave a threatening note on Muhen’s door, making me run out into the rain, where you would dramatically rescue me and bring me into your house while I was too weak to negotiate the terms of my stay. Then you seduced me for days on end so I wouldn’t stand up for myself.”

“I made you _happy_."

“You made me a stupid, worthless pet,” Goro spat back. “Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if you had been responsible for even more. I got lost the night I staked out the town hall, was that your power? Turning the streets around until I lost my target? Can your _ribbons_ do that?”

Sumire tucked her chin low to her chest.

“At least admit it to me. Don’t you owe me that?”

“…Yes. That was my fault.” Sumire looked up at him again, her eyes shy and almost hidden by her fringe. “It’s something that can happen when I… dance. My dance and ribbons, they help me create spells.”

Goro had always known that Sumire’s dance had a layer of enchantment in it. Confirming that he didn’t just think that because he was a lovestruck fool felt satisfying. “And what kind of spell do you need to cast in order to free me?”

“I can’t free you. That's beyond my power,” Sumire told him.

“Why not?” Goro demanded.

“In a situation like this, it’s…” Sumire stopped abruptly. “I’ve never had to explain this to anyone before.”

“Did you ever plan to tell me? Did you expect me to grow old ad frail, and you would remain an ever-young faerie, and I wouldn’t have _any questions_ about that?” Goro pressed like he had his foot on Sumire’s neck, all while he still sat, frozen, where she put him. “Do you even know me at all?”

“I do know you!” Sumire cut in. “I know the pain you carry and how it drives you to a path of thorns with nothing but doom at the end! You say you want justice against your father, but you’ve lived so long in misery that you’ve let it define you! If someone didn't stop you, then you'd spend your entire brilliant and clever life letting knives sink into your chest and never knowing a moment’s peace! I knew this the moment I saw your heart and I couldn’t just stand by and let you torture yourself!”

Goro sat in silence for a second. The moment she saw him, when he stepped into town and noticed a red ribbon in the corner of his eye? Had she actually seen his heart? And to hear her speak like that, full of fire and confidence, reminded him of how actually incredible Sumire could be.

“If you can see my heart, you know that I want you to let me go,” Goro said.

“I can’t,” Sumire repeated. “It all starts with a debt, but you’ve used so much of my favor, there is literally nothing that you can do to balance the scales. They say faeries steal human souls, and they’re half-right. Your soul _is_ my soul now. Releasing you would mean tearing my own soul apart, and I… wouldn’t survive that.”

He gritted his teeth. “That’s no concern of mine.”

“Goro-san, you love me. You said so.”

“I only said that to make you tell me your name.”

Indignant, Sumire sat up straight. “ _G_ _oro Akechi,_ _do you love me?_ ”

He felt the swell inside him, like a balloon of truth that had to burst out of his mouth. To his surprise and satisfaction, he said exactly what he wanted. “I love you with every twisted scrap of sentiment I have, but I have to make Shido pay. My love for you will never be more important than that.”

“So you’re going to kill me?”

“It was a last resort,” Goro confessed. “I didn’t think I could land a killing blow before you had a chance to command me to stop.”

“Then why did you even try to hurt me?!”

“So that you would know how I really feel.”

Sumire blinked at him in. “But that’s not how you feel. You just said you love me.”

“You said it yourself. My soul is your soul. Logically, you could do anything you wanted to me. You could order me to never leave your side. Or you could steal my abilities and make me totally dependent on you, so even if I tried to leave I wouldn’t get far. I think it’s within your power to erase Shido from my memory. Perhaps you could erase _everything_ from my memory and have me start fresh as the man you want me to be.” 

Goro leveled his gaze at Sumire's nervous face. “But you can’t erase _yourself._ If you change me into your docile pet, you’re going to remember that you did that for the rest of your life. You’re going to remember how I wanted to leave so badly that I tried to kill you. No matter how many times you make me tell you that I’m happy, or that I love you, or you make me sleep with you, you’re going to _remember._ Even if you change me into someone who will never again defy you, _you’re_ going to remember that you betrayed me.”

Sumire’s eyes looked wet. “I didn’t betray you. I’m trying to save you.”

“I never asked to be saved.”

“Goro-san, you’re not the only one who lost someone,” she started. “I told you what happened to my sister. And I was so angry at the hunter who killed her. I wanted to rip him into little pieces, but… I didn’t. I didn’t have the power to. And my sister is still dead, and the hunter is alive, and… I had to find a way to keep living. I’m not torturing myself with fantasies of destroying him for what he took from me, because I know it won’t make me feel any better. It won’t bring Kasumi back, and it won’t make up for how useless I was back then.”

“Are you seriously telling me to just move on with my life?”

“I am. You’re never going to be able to change the past, even if you do everything right and your father dies. You won’t gain back what you’ve lost. And you can’t lie to me, Goro Akechi, and claim that you’re doing this for the sake of others. It wouldn’t matter to you if someone worse rose up in Shido’s place so long as you got your revenge.”

Sumire doesn’t invoke any magic along with Goro’s name, but he can feel that she’s right. He twisted his lips into a wry smile. “Fine then. You’re absolutely right. I don’t care if this makes life better for anyone but myself, and I have no intention of changing my position on this.”

“If I’m right, why are you still fighting me?”

“Maybe I’m not such a _good boy_ after all.”

“I don’t call you that because I think you’re a magnanimously charitable person,” Sumire said. “It’s because I love you and I want you to feel joy.”

“Why, for a single second, do you think I deserve that?”

“You probably don’t,” Sumire conceded. “But I don’t care about shouldn’ts and shoulds. I love you, and I’m not going to let the people I love get hurt ever again. I didn’t have the power to save Kasumi, but I have the power to save you.”

“I don’t want anyone to save me! And I would rather die of of my own volition than live the rest of my life where I can’t make my own choices!”

“This is the way things are, Goro-san. Your soul is my soul, and I’m going to protect you.”

“I refuse to surrender to you and you bullshit faerie magic!” he snarled. “I’m going to find a way forward, and if you keep telling me there isn’t one, then I’m going to have no choice but to burn everything to the ground!”

Sumire flinched, drawing back from Goro. He glared at her, waiting for her to refute him, before she spoke again.

“ _Goro Akechi, you will never take your own life or mine._ ”

“STOP IT!” he howled in answer. “STOP DOING THAT! STOP MAKING ME INTO SOMEONE I'M NOT!”

She didn’t flinch. She just scooted her chair closer and took one of Goro’s hands in her own. “I’m sorry! I don’t want to do that anymore, but you scared me, and I can’t let you—”

“SHUT UP!” He pulled with all his might to get his hand away from Sumire, but his muscles didn’t move. They didn’t even tense. His hand just stayed limp and accepting as she cradled it and he screamed in her face. “YOU’RE NOT BETTER THAN ME! SO WHY DO YOU GET TO DECIDE WHAT I DO WITH MY LIFE?! I DON'T NEED YOUR WORTHLESS PITY! SO JUST STOP!”

A cat outside yowled and some tins in an alley crashed. Goro wondered for a second if neighbors would hear and come to his rescue, but he knew the area well by now. No one lived close enough to the gymnasium, and no one could enter the loft without the ladder. Even if someone did, they would be intruders in Sumire’s domain, and she’d have every right to retaliate. Castle law, they call it.

His screaming left him without breath, so he sat panting for a minute. Sumire still held his hand. There’s something obnoxious and endearing about that. She was patronizing him again, pitying him, controlling him. But, she didn’t leave. Something about her patience lent weight to the idea that Sumire didn’t have some misguided notion that Goro was _actually_ a sweet, honorable, innocent good boy. Maybe the reason he hadn’t yet been rewritten according to Sumire’s whims was because she _liked_ the fierce and broken edges of his personality.

That would be a first.

A few more minutes passed. He looked at Sumire again. Even in a situation like this, he couldn’t help but find her beautiful. Her long hair trailing down her back, her warm sunset eyes, the graceful curves of her face.

“…What if I avenged Kasumi?”

“Why?”

“Surely there’s no one else in the world who has wronged you as deeply as the hunter who killed her. Would I be freed if I brought you his head?”

“I told you already. There’s no way to buy your soul back from me. And killing the hunter wouldn’t change anything.”

“Then why don’t you come with me?”

Sumire looked even more confused. “With you? Where?”

“To destroy Shido. You think I can’t do it by myself. That’s an opinion that I find deeply offensive, but wouldn’t I be safer if you were at my side? Even if you do nothing more than act as a lookout, things would be so much easier. You would protect me.”

“I can’t do that either,” Sumire told him.

“Why? Some ancient fae law?”

“I’d be leaving my home,” Sumire said. “If you know about my other weaknesses, then you’ve done the research by now. I’m at my strongest when I’m inside my domain. There has to be a threshold, separating what’s mine from the rest of the world. Traveling with you means sleeping on the road, in inns and back-rooms. There’s no threshold and no safety.”

“Then I’ll protect you,” Goro promised. “I can handle bandits or swindlers. And if anyone grows suspicious of your true nature, I have the power to lie. For the rest, your ribbons hold power, don’t they? You’re stronger than you know.”

“But Kasumi—”

“Kasumi is dead,” Goro interrupted. “And are you really staying in this place because you’re protecting something, or because you’re letting fear get the better of you? Wasn’t Kasumi brave? Wouldn’t she want you to be brave?”

Sumire doesn’t say anything.

“Didn’t you want to dance for the world together? How can you do that when you refuse to see the world?”

“You’re trying to tempt me,” Sumire accused.

“Then you admit that this scenario is tempting,” Goro told her. 

“It doesn’t matter if it’s tempting! It’s still too dangerous!”

He took a deep breath. “This has been very hard to communicate because of how angry I am with you, but the _only_ thing that stands in the way of the life you want for me is Shido.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Everything that we’ve done over the last month—living with you, making this home here, and the… physical relations we’ve had…” _The times you fucked me until I couldn’t see_ was more accurate, but Sumire would have to infer the truth or compel it out of him. “Because I met you, I’ve finally started to contemplate the future I want for myself after Shido pays for what he’s done. It’s just like what we have now."

“You’d let me keep you once your mission is over?”

Goro nodded.

“…Will you promise it?”

“So you’ll agree to let me go?”

“No, I can’t just agree. But if you make a promise, then I’ll know you’re telling the truth.”

“I’m capable of making a false promise. Why aren’t you just forcing me to tell the truth?”

“You hate it when I force you to do things. Unless you’d rather…?”

Goro sighed in resignation. “I promise that, as soon as Masayoshi Shido is removed from power, either by disgrace or by the grave, I will live with you, wherever you please, and love you for the rest of my life.”

For the first time since the whole cursed conversation began, Sumire managed to smile. It was thin and weak, but a smile nonetheless.

“Is that enough? Will you let me go?”

Sumire clasped his hand tighter. “I… want to think about this. If I decide right now, you won’t like my decision. So I want to… think some more.”

 _Right back where I started, nothing gained._ _Shit._ “Can I sleep on the sofa?”

“You should take the bed. You need the sleep more than me.”

“I categorically refuse to sleep in the bed of my own volition.”

Now Sumire sighed. “You were so sweet over the last week.”

“I was pretending to be sweet in order to exploit you.”

“I’m not saying I hate this. I’m just going to miss when you acted sweet.”

She stood up, placed Goro’s hand in his lap, and then kissed his forehead, soft and kind. Even when Goro least deserved it, when he had torn up her secrets, tried to kill her, and screamed his rage against her kindness, she still gave it to him.

On the other hand, maybe he deserved kindness, after the shit she put him through. He had a feeling it would be a while before he got an apology.

Sumire walked away, back toward the bed. Goro flexed his fingers and discovered he had the power to move again. He pulled the flower-scented quilt off the back of the sofa and laid down, closing his eyes to sleep without another word to Sumire.

* * *

Familiar morning light streamed through the skylights of the gymnasium’s loft. Goro slept a natural amount, as far as he could tell. The true test would come when he stepped outside.

He sat up and found Sumire sitting at the table. The magical chest of tricks still lay open. Goro couldn’t see if she had done anything to its contents. She watched him, but not with an open stare, just kind of from the corner of her eye. Shyly. 

Goro was done with asking her permission to do things. He stood up and found his clothes from the day before—or, well, most of them. He’d have to wear the other shirt, this one was missing some buttons. He wrapped himself in more and more clothes, and when that was done, he chose an apple for breakfast.

Sumire still said nothing.

What to do? Well, Goro had only one avenue available to him. If he robbed the man with the tattoos, then the mayor’s trail wouldn’t go cold after all, and Goro would know the next step forward. He should arm himself, stake out the inn heading out of town, wait for his opening. Something along those lines. He’d figure out the rest when he got there.

It took several long and silent minutes, but Goro finished his apple. He wrapped the core in a hanky so he could dispose of it outside. Then he crossed to the loft’s trapdoor and started to lower the ladder. The air crackled with unspoken words. Goro waited for Sumire to say something like _Where are you going_ or _You’re going to get hurt._ He had a dozen retorts ready to spring on her like traps: accuse her that this was her own fault, she drove him to this, and he’d hate her forever if she tried to stop him.

Eventually, Sumire stood up and approached him. Goro froze and stared her down. He dared her to say something. _Dared_ her.

Instead, she opened her hands. A very thin black ribbon lay in her palms. She tied up his hair any time he wanted to go hunting, to protect him. Knowing nothing of her true nature, Goro had dismissed the ribbon as a superstition. Now he knew better.

The ribbon said everything. _If you’re going to leave, at least be safe._

He stared at the ribbon, then at Sumire. She looked sad, the kind of sad that made him want to embrace her and never let go, but beneath the sorrow she looked calm.

After a minute, he dropped to one knee. Sumire circled to his back, where she combed her fingers through his hair and formed a short ponytail, to be tied off with the thin black ribbon.

When she was done, she stepped away from him. He stood and descended the ladder. He couldn’t stop from glancing at her with almost every rung, that serene pain still plain on her face, but she didn’t stop him.

Soon, she was out of sight.


	8. New Moon

The inn was a squat, thatched building about a mile up the road from Shujin. Goro had heard about it before coming into town, but decided against it for its price and focus on stabling horses and carts. Apparently Shido’s deep pockets could take care of the lodging, so long as his mercenaries took care of the problem.

He had heard the men were in town and which inn they were at, but he didn’t know which room. A short series of east-facing windows surely led to the guest rooms. In order to provide serene forest views, they faced away from the main road too, so at least Goro wouldn’t have any problems with the proprietor chasing off a young man loitering at the front door. He’d be set if he could just determine which room belonged to them.

Five windows. If he thought about it, he would not want to be in the room closest to the stairs where other guests would tromp past. Therefore, if he could determine where the stairs let out, he’d know to choose the room on the opposite end. Left or right? Goro had never been inside the inn before and would consider showing his face a last resort. Could he find an angle to peer around and check?

Peering proved useful. The warped glass of the windows took some getting used to, but Goro discovered his most important clue: the two windows closest to the right side of the building fed into the same room. He couldn’t find any sign of a wall, and at certain angles the same objects appeared in both windows. None of the other rooms displayed any kind of joined-room trickery.

Three men, one room. Of course they’d have the biggest one.

He moved from the tree line to the side of the inn. The construction used a combination of stones and beams. It only granted a few hand-holds, but this was exactly the kind of task he stayed in shape for. A fall from a second story wouldn’t even hurt that much.

Up on the ledge, he found one window would not budge. There were simply no hinges for it. But the second one had some hinges, and if Goro could keep his hand-hold for a few minutes, he could put enough pressure on the top pane to open it. He gritted his teeth and set to work loosening the glass. Thankfully, the angle meant he could keep an eye on the door. If it budged, Goro could drop to the ground, maybe fracture an ankle, but stay completely hidden.

The top pane dropped an inch. Then two. Then more, until Goro had a slot wide enough to his body. A few more stretches to reach the roof of the inn let him slide his legs through first, then drop to the ground inside. He addressed the window first, raising the top pane and opening the bottom to give himself an easier exit.

Now. To find information.

He found knives. So many knives. A few vials of dark liquids that smelled like nothing and looked exactly like poison. Then some trail food—jerky and raisins—and skins for water. He needed paper. _Papers._ Orders from higher-ups, directions for how to murder the mayor, notes about where to go next…

Finally, in the bottom of a bag, Goro found a leather folder for mail and found three pages. One was a letter confirming the name and location of the inn, one was about a stipend for the job—a fucking stipend, these _monsters_ kept track of their expenses and per diem—and one was a page of gibberish.

Hang on. He remembered the last time he had seen and decoded this. Practically reading one letter at a time, Goro pored over the page until the message started to come together.

_Start of next month: Capitol Bistro back room, ask for Kiyomi. Bring references for all candidates._

So it was true. The rumored introduction system was real, and the thuggish leader had a direct line to Shido. This could be the rung right before his end prize, and he had time to travel and prepare and maybe erase every bloated, trashy slug surrounding his father, just for the satisfaction of watching them bleed.

He could do this.

The door behind him creaked and a man yelled, “HEY!”

Goro snapped up to look at them: two men flanking the leader, tattoos peeking from under his shirt sleeves. He dropped the letter and dove toward the window, but right as his fingertips cleared the sill, rough hands grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him back.

“Intruder, boss!” One of the men barked. “Snuck in the window.”

“I can _see_ that,” the boss drawled. His men grabbed hold of Goro’s arms and left him struggling as the boss approached. “You think you’re clever, huh? What do you think you’re gonna get out of fucking with us?”

Goro knew it was bait. Terrible, rancid bait. But in spite of it all, Goro snarled and responded, “Justice.”

“Oh, _justice_ ? You’re gonna get _justice_ on us big, bad men? Run home to your mommy.”

Goro kicked one of his legs as far forward as it would go, striking the man in the upper thigh. He had hoped to hit the crotch, but he’d take what he could get. Unfortunately, it didn’t help him any.

“Fine, you wanna play like that? Here!” The man pulled back a fist and drove it against Goro’s jaw. Pain burned and echoed through his face.

“Boss, we gotta take him somewhere,” one of the goons suggested. “Be a shame to get blood in this quaint country establishment.”

“Alright, get ready to walk, and follow me,” the boss ordered.

The blade of a small knife dug into Goro’s back. Its owner hissed to him, “Make a sound, and we’ll gut you where you stand.”

So Goro had no choice but to walk.

* * *

The march through the woods set his heart pounding in his ears. After a few turns, Goro could tell where they were taking him. It was toward that clearing at the base of the cliff where he had first eavesdropped on them threatening the now-deceased mayor. He might be able to dash onto one of the forest trails if one of his escorts let him go, but the knife pressed into his back, and their grip stayed shackle-strong.

_Like iron._

He knew this was exactly what Sumire had been afraid of, but she’d never tell him ‘I told you so.’ No, she’d be worried, beside herself with worry, more scared of this moment than even Goro himself. Facing a death march into the woods, Goro had to face the reality that Sumire cared far more about his life than he did, and not just because he had become her treasured possession.

She loved him.

_Sumire, I’m sorry…_

Goro would estimate the clearing as only a little bit further ahead, but the tattooed man leading the way suddenly stopped.

“The fuck?” He looked back at his goons. “We got turned around!”

The goons shared glances. “What are you talking about?”

The leader scowled at his underlings and jabbed his fingers back up the path. “You idiots, it’s _that_ way!”

Goro shifted his weight and tried to relax his hands, jittery hope and certain calmness chasing through his body all at once.

The leader blinked again and turned on his heel. “Hold up, this is bullshit! Now it’s back there?”

And while the goons stretched their necks to try and see what their boss could see, Goro heard a knife pull a sheath and then _sink_ with a wet slice into someone’s side.

The man to Goro’s right screamed and released him, so Goro turned and punched the man on the left in the throat with all his strength. As he fell, Goro looked to his rescuer.

It was Sumire, but that part didn’t surprise him. In one hand, she spun a violet ribbon in arcing circles—the exact one Goro had suggested she weave from two colors. In the other hand, she held a bloody and surely stolen knife. Her russet hair had been pinned on the back of her head in a tight bun, and her clothes… Goro hadn’t seen anything like them, either on her body or in her wardrobe. They looked like stitched-together leaves, black ivy and grape foliage, covering her torso and hips and nothing else.

She met Goro’s eyes. She had let him leave, and when he needed her, she came to his rescue with her once-concealed talons stretched and ready to fight. In that one look, Goro felt himself forgive Sumire for everything.

The throat-punched man rolled on the ground, reaching for his dropped knife. The stabbed man stayed down, but groaning. The leader pulled a knife from his own belt and started to advance.

Sumire’s eyes locked to the leader. She flipped forward with a cartwheel, her ribbon never catching on the ground. Goro had to trust her—he should take care of the trash. A swift kick in the side ’encouraged’ the throat-punched one to stay down, before Goro dove after his knife. Once his hand curled around the hilt, he swiped it at its owner, cutting hand, cutting face. The one with the stab wound crawled to his knees and started to run. Goro gave chase and stabbed him one more time.

_Just stay down, you piece of shit!_

Goro pulled the knife out and tried to check on Sumire, but the other bleeding goon started to charge after him. He dropped his stance low and dodged around the swipes, ready to throw the man—except he found his stance in the wrong place, and their weight wouldn’t shift! Shit, shit—Goro flailed with the knife, but the man knew at least how to keep an opponent’s blade away from him. 

While Goro struggled, he heard Sumire cry, and then a snap of wood. He turned his face and saw the tattooed man throw the two halves of Sumire’s baton aside, the ribbon trailing on the ground. Sumire backed away from the man, her eyes trained on him to anticipate his next move.

_NO!_

Goro flicked his wrist and tossed the knife behind his attacker’s back, switching it from his right hand to his left. With the blade finally in his dominant hand, Goro drove it between the man’s ribs. He groaned, sputtered, and sank.

Now no one stood between Goro and the leader. The tattooed man had a knife of his own, a nasty and serrated thing. Even if a faerie couldn’t be killed by a weapon like that, Goro would rather die himself than let it touch Sumire.

He’d also rather kill the man than die.

Sumire inched backward along the path. Her eyes stayed fixed on her attacker, who raised his knife higher to strike at her.

Goro struck first, against his upper shoulder. It cut but didn’t stab. The man still recoiled, and Goro took that moment to move himself between the assassin and Sumire.

“Goro-san!”

Eyes on the prize. When the man recovered, he yelled and charged forward too, but Goro dodged and swiped back. He watched every shift, every twitch, trying to keep track of where the man would strike next. He got most of it right, some of it wrong. The blade caught Goro’s upper arm once, then across the stomach. The pain started to sap his strength, but this thug wasn’t going to touch Sumire. Goro would _kill_ him before he touched Sumire.

The man’s knife looked relentless and Goro couldn’t find an opening—until another flash of violet appeared. The tail of Sumire’s ribbon snapped up like a whip and entangled the man’s wrist.

“Now!” she cried.

Goro gripped the knife with both hands and plunged it into the man’s heart as deep as it would go. The hilt stopped flush with his chest.

The man sputtered and sank to the ground. Goro let the knife go and panted, woozy on his feet. He looked at Sumire, the half of her baton still attached to the ribbon in her hand, and the ribbon fallen to the ground now.

He smiled at her. “Thank you.”

She smiled back, and Goro fell in love again. 

* * *

_All’s well that ends well. Right, Kasumi?_

Sumire kept her attention focused on Goro’s wounds, swapping the bandages with fresh ones boiled in her one nice copper pot. He had tried to follow her back to the gymnasium, but his stamina gave out when they reached the halfway point. Sumire let him sleep on her back while she went the rest of the way, casting a bit of glamor behind her to disguise the movements of a rather small girl carrying an injured man on her back. Once they arrived back, she returned to human-like clothing and got ready to nurse Goro through his injuries. 

He’d pull through. She could feel it hum in his veins. These injuries weren’t fatal. And now that they were clean, maybe she could…

Her fingers traced the edge of the wound on his stomach. Just like she and Kasumi had practiced as little blossoms, she asked for healing, and healing she got. The angry red line knitted together and left behind unbroken skin, not even a scar. She repeated the action on Goro’s arm, and gave a touch more to his cheek, just to make the bruise fade.

Won’t _he_ be surprised.

She rested her elbows on her knees and watched him sleep. So many thoughts ran through her head. She hadn’t meant for things to go like this at all. She had truly thought she could convince someone as driven—well, obsessive—as Goro Akechi to abandon his life’s work if she just showed him love and happiness. Those were the most powerful forces in the world, right? Love and happiness?

But vows were powerful, too. Promises, both kept and broken. Pain was powerful. The truth was powerful. And these cronies of Masayoshi Shido’s were powerful. She had saved Goro, but once again, she had needed someone to save her. Like the man who saved her from the wolves, like Kasumi who saved her from the hunter.

She knew what Goro would say once he woke up. Sumire shouldn’t dwell on all the times she needed saving; she should take it as a sign to get stronger. Keep reaching for the next rung of the ladder. Always, always, keep reaching for more. And since Sumire met him, she finally felt ready to reach for more in her life.

Goro stirred. She sat by and waited as his eyes opened and he looked around the loft. Then he turned his head and looked at her.

“How did you get me up here?” he asked.

“Magic,” she told him with a small smile. It felt nice to admit the truth.

He sat up a little bit and braced himself on his forearms, then blinked as the motion caused him absolutely no pain.

“I used a little more magic while you were asleep,” Sumire teased. She really liked amazing Goro. His eyes would go wide, brows high, and his lips would part for just a second before he thought of what to say.

“That’s incredible,” he said. “So I suppose that negates any favor I gained over you thanks to saving your life?”

“I told you, your debt is too deep to be reversible. Not to mention, I started out by saving _your_ life.”

“So we’re at an impasse once again.”

“We don’t have to be,” Sumire said.

“We don’t?”

Her heart started to beat fast in her chest. She had been told by everyone she ever met, by the King of the Court, by the gardeners who raised her, by every other faerie she ever met, by her dear sister Kasumi, _never tell anyone._ But she remembered Goro, standing over her to shield her from harm, not for a single second considering how letting that thuggish man kill her would have freed him.

“My name is Sumire Yoshizawa,” she told him. “Please, protect it.”

Goro stared at her. She felt her face growing hotter and hotter under his gaze. He seemed far too close, all of a sudden. Was he too close? 

“It’s lovely,” he said. “Sumire Yoshizawa.”

A magical tingle ran down her spine. “Please try not to use it too often. It kind of feels like when you strike your funny bone, but all over.”

“So why give it to me at all?”

Sumire tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “Because you deserve it. You can’t command me with it, so we're not exactly equal, but no matter how far apart we are, I’ll hear it. And you can invoke it as protection against other faeries. And so long as I stay in your good graces, you won’t tell anyone else what it is.”

“Or you could order me to keep it a secret.”

“Do you _want_ me to order you? You haven’t taken kindly to that in the past.”

“No, you’re right,” Goro said. “So you’re… trusting me.”

“I do. I trust you a lot, Goro-san.”

He sat up a little more solidly and reached for her hand, her fingers threading in between his. It felt like so much had happened since Goro tried to kill her. When she had seen him ready to plunge that iron into her heart, she had felt so sure they would never have a moment to be gentle and loving like this again. She couldn’t stand how happy she felt that their love hadn't died.

“Um, did you… get what you needed?” Sumire asked. “The next rung?”

“I did,” Goro reported with a smile. “A letter concerning the next introductions conference.”

“What’s an introductions conference?”

“High-ranking members of Shido’s conspiracy gather to discuss individuals they believe will add value to their network, weighing whether they can be trusted as allies. I haven’t confirmed it, but Shido himself is highly likely to attend to oversee the recruitment process. If he isn’t, there’s a handful more members I can use as my next rungs.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? You’re within striking distance of your father now!”

“It’s likely not going to be as simple as that. While I may have been content to orchestrate a suicide mission a month ago, that’s not a viable option anymore. I may need to simply observe the meeting and make plans to strike later.”

Sumire’s heart fluttered to hear Goro voluntarily back away from any plan that involved harm to himself. He had truly meant his promise earlier, that he wanted a life with Sumire as soon as he completed his mission. “I’ll do my best to help you.”

He smiled, and the flutters got worse. “I would be very interested in a more in-depth demonstration of what your magic is capable of. Your use of illusions are quite impressive.”

“I could definitely do that, but shouldn’t you rest a little longer? We did get in a fight with armed thugs.”

Goro pulled their hands closer to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss on the back of her hand. “Surely we’re capable of multitasking.”

She smiled and giggled a little. “You’re quite insatiable, aren’t you?”

“And who made me that way?”

The playful banter gave her an idea. “Take off the rest of your clothes and I’ll show you exactly what my magic can do.”

Sumire tapped the side of the mattress and left Goro for her trunk. The bow-lock was back in place—reflexively at this point—but Sumire untied it easily and took stock of her ribbons. That brilliant red one would drive Goro _insane_ , but perhaps another time. She’d rather do something graceful and subtle than bold.

With a fresh idea in her head, Sumire selected the midnight ribbon, nearly black but with specks of silvery light woven throughout like a night sky. She pinched the ends of its folded form and then turned herself back to Goro, laid out the same as before but with absolutely no clothing left.

_As handsome outside as in… I can’t believe he’s mine._

She settled on the bed and put the ribbon to one side. Goro’s eyes flicked to it, half-nervous and half-interested, a little glance that made Sumire smile. Goro had a point from last night, how she hadn’t thought far enough ahead to wonder what would happen when she could no longer distract Goro would sex or stories and he started to question her true nature. But with the truth out in the open, Goro noticed and appreciated every single piece of Sumire… she should have told him from the start. Or, well, not from the start, but as soon as possible. She liked Goro knowing about her magic.

Before doing anything else with the ribbon, Sumire held Goro’s face and leaned forward to kiss him. She always loved kissing him, loved the feel of his lips and tongue against hers, and when she pulled back, she loved the way he reeled, half-chasing and half-senseless. Humans tended to have trouble ‘handling’ faerie kisses, and she loved watching Goro lose control after a lingering kiss or two.

“Are you ready, Goro-san?” she asked, just to tease.

Goro met her eyes—already a little hazy, so in-tune with her desires he couldn’t help getting swept up in them—and nodded.

She reached for the ribbon. “Then, here we go!”

One end of the ribbon stayed pinched against the back of Goro’s head. She wrapped a loop. Then another. Then another. The loops fell over Goro’s eyes like bandages. He stayed still and trusting as Sumire spun length after length of ribbon around his eyes. She had plenty of it.

“Are your eyes closed?”

“Yes.”

“Open them.”

To the outside, nothing changed, but Goro immediately started. “It’s the night sky. The _actual_ night sky. Or—no, obviously not, it’s still an illusion. But I can see stars.”

“Yes, I’m very proud of that one!”

“Sumire, I can recognize _constellations._ This is indistinguishable from reality. It’s impressive.”

She blushed under his praise, though he couldn't see it. But he’d have to figure out what she would use it for—other than sex—at a later time. She had one more trick for him. On one side of his face where the bottom loops of ribbon covered his ears, Sumire leaned close and inched the ribbon up so he could hear her voice.

And she whispered. But it wasn’t exactly _language._ She whispered all the love she had for Goro in a single breath, and then quickly tucked the ribbon down over his whole ear. Switching to the other side, she tucked the loops over the ear canal so her whisper couldn't fall out the other side. Her love would echo and reverberate around his head until he couldn't hear anything.

“Sumi—” Goro started, but he silenced himself with a gasp. “S-Sumire, how—How are you doing that?”

Sumire placed her finger over Goro’s lips, and he jumped in shock. Blinded by stars and now deafened by his own memories of all the sweet nothings Sumire had whispered to him since they met, he could only keep track of her location by touch. She kept one hand on his face, cradling, while her other pet his head. _Easy. Easy…_

Soon, Goro started to unwind, going looser and looser before Sumire’s eyes. He brought one of his hands up to cover hers, first to keep himself grounded, but as his grip softened, she realized it was just to stay close. His breaths couldn’t find a new rhythm, hiccuping and gasping as one phrase or another jumped out from the fog of Sumire’s whispers in his mind. His dick was growing stiffer without a single touch. Sumire had to guess that her whisper was calling Goro _'good boy.'_ She loved how well he responded to that one.

Sumire stole the pillow from behind Goro and created a back rest for herself while she inched her skirts up her legs and spread them wide. When she felt comfortable, she reached for Goro and teased him forward with just one finger on his chin. He rested the weight of his head on her finger, trusting her to guide him where she wanted. He leaned forward, then to all fours, and then lower down. Then lower still.

Before too long, Goro got his bearings. He reached one hand forward for Sumire’s thigh, then the other, and with his chest practically flat on the bed, he knew exactly where he needed to press forward to put his mouth on Sumire’s pussy. She laughed as she moaned, enjoying the way his tongue licked her like she gave him life. In spite of himself, he was so well-trained.

“Good,” she said aloud, even though he couldn’t hear her. She remembered in time and put her hands on Goro’s shoulders, scratching lightly so he knew she was there and that she was happy with him. Goro groaned between her legs, maybe randomly, maybe in answer.

She let her head fall back and closed her eyes, focusing on the bliss Goro spread through her body. She touched him far more often than he did her, but when he did, it meant so much. In spite of the nigh-hypnotic pleasure she granted him, he found will in his heart to try and reciprocate. He never forgot that Sumire was responsible for this enchanting pleasure. He appreciated her so much for it.

In darker moments, Sumire wondered if Goro would have found her anywhere near as enchanting if Kasumi was still alive. These bright moments, with Goro pouring every ounce of his skill and energy into pleasing her, put the possibility far out of her head.

Goro loved her. He loved her and they were going to change the world together.

As he fucked her with his tongue, Sumire watched him start to fall apart more. She had known for a long time that praising Goro made him fall to pieces, and now he couldn’t hear anything _but_ her praise. His hips started to grind against the mattress, his toes curling and legs seizing in helpless little spasms. All the while, his dedication to eating her out didn’t waver.

She reached down and lifted his face gently. His breath came in labored gasps, exhaled in throaty moans. It took a little bit for Goro to get loud, but Sumire’s heart beat faster to realize that Goro couldn’t hear himself. He had no idea how loud he was.

With a few guiding taps, Sumire got the attention of Goro’s hand and led two of his fingers to her entrance. He pushed them inside, gently at first, but faster and harder as Sumire’s hips canted to meet the thrusts. Another press against the back of his head put his tongue back on her clit. Now one hand curled in Goro’s hair while her other grabbed her own. Cries escaped her as Goro—clever, talented Goro, _her Goro Akechi_ —fucked her with tongue and finger and determination.

“Close—” she warned no one in particular. A far better warning came when her hips stuttered and her thighs _snapped_ around either side of Goro’s head, pushing against his ears with instinctive force. She heard his muffled shout, but he stayed where her thighs trapped him, even finding some way for his finger to keep moving, keep curling inside her, drawing more and more heat and tension from her.

When it crested, Sumire’s wail echoed in the loft. The tips of her being—head, toes, fingers—tingled with sensation and pleasure while the rest of her went boneless. It took almost all of her energy when her thighs released Goro to tap his head and signal him to stop.

She had _needed_ that. After a day of worry and stress, starting with her awakening to see an iron spike in the hand of her lover, to the tense morning, to the moment she felt someone harm Goro and knew he needed her help, to the fight where she didn’t know if either of them would survive… that orgasm put all of it behind her. They were safe now.

Goro’s groans brought her back to the present. He still had her ribbon around his eyes, covering his ears and keeping her whisper rebounding inside his mind, love and love and love and love and _love._ Shivers ran through his body while he writhed, hands curling against the sheets.

She tilted her head and looked curiously at him, noticing he wasn’t touching himself. Had he _ever_ touched himself? Since he started to live with Sumire, he rarely had reason to. She rarely gave him a chance to. The idea that Goro might be _that_ well-trained for her inspired a second wind.

Her hands cradled Goro’s face again. He flinched, then moaned and tried to kiss her palms. She laughed to herself again and guided him onto his back: a touch here, a push there, and Goro did the rest himself, much like how his debt to her had grown.

Once she had him flat on his back, she moved to straddle him and slip his cock inside her. He shouted her name—just Sumire, as habit, as requested—and tried to buck helplessly beneath her. She traced her fingertips across his cheeks again to reassure him, calm him, _I’m here, I’m here for you._ Sumire had no idea if it worked. Goro’s groans quieted, but his body seemed desperate as ever.

Best give him what he needed.

She moved her hands to his shoulders, bracing as she started to rock her hips back and forth. She fit so much of Goro inside of her, and she loved the feeling of fullness, the weight and pressure a comfort to her as it drove Goro wild. His hands found their way to her thighs, her hips, her back. They didn’t have enough strength to change her rhythm as she found the song in her soul, the one she danced to when she cast her self into the world as magic, and moved with it. She had never loved a stage as much as she loved Goro’s body.

In a minute, she found her rhythm, pushing and twisting over Goro’s body, when he found yet another way to surprise her.

He sat up.

It unbalanced her, but she let her hands grip Goro’s body as he pushed with his arms and abs. His own shaking didn’t even stop him as he wrapped Sumire in a hug, his face close to her neck.

“Su—Sumire,” he started, senseless to his own volume. _"Sumire Yoshizawa, I love you."_

Her pleasure, his vow, her _name,_ all struck her at once. She clawed Goro’s shoulders as yet another climax ripped through her with barely enough time for her to breathe before she screamed. When her body clenched around Goro, he followed quickly, heat and pressure pushing him beyond his peak.

_Everything he is, is mine. Everything I have, I give to him. I’ll never let him hurt again… because I’m going to fight for him._

A second wave of afterglow settled in, and Sumire laid Goro back with it. His voice still whimpered, so Sumire set about unraveling the starry ribbon. One she could see his eyes again, they looked glassy and sightless, but he’d be fine with time. More importantly, Sumire took hold of Goro’s head with the tips of her fingers and tilted his head to the side, so her whisper could slip out of his ear. She waited a minute, and then two, until Goro’s breath started to come deeper and more even.

“Goro-san, can you hear me?” she checked.

Goro groaned, so Sumire let his head tilt back to normal. His pupils still looked wide and dark, over-dilated even for the low light in the loft, but at least he could focus on her face again.

“Are you okay?”

He exhaled, but when no words came, he nodded.

“That’s good,” she told him with a smile. “We’ll have plenty of time to multi-task in the future, too.”

He raised his arms, and happily, Sumire slipped between them like a boat come into shore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's basically the ending, chapter 9 is just a cute little epilogue for you lovely people. <3


	9. Epilogue: Another Crescent

Goro opened the door to Muhen’s bar for Sumire, enjoying her thankful little smile before they stepped inside. He had a feeling this conversation would go poorly, but the odds looked better if they approached it with absolute confidence. When Muhen raised his head and his eyes went wide, Goro’s certainty in his strategy grew stronger.

“I’m sorry to drop in unannounced,” Goro said. “Are we interrupting anything?”

Muhen looked between Goro and Sumire, struggling with what to say. “I—I don’t think this is—”

Sumire offered Muhen a small and graceful bow. “I understand your discomfort, and promise that I won’t be staying long. We just wanted to clear some things up before leaving.”

“Leaving? To where?”

“The capitol,” Goro said. “There’s someone there who I want to pay a personal visit. Sumire will be coming with me as well.”

“This isn’t making any sense,” Muhen said, but his statement hung in the air with no follow-up about which part.

"May we sit?” Goro requested.

Muhen nodded and they took a table together, the three of them. Goro felt Sumire’s hand reach for his under the table, and he accepted it. With her hair up, she put on a brave face to the world, but outside of Goro, this was the only other man in town who knew Sumire’s true nature, and he didn't trust her. Goro had to admire her courage in even coming with him.

“I’m sure you have a number of questions, but the most important thing to recognize first is that the situation has changed,” Goro began. “While my relationship to Sumire is the same as before, she has given me her full name.”

“You seriously got it?”

“It was granted to me,” Goro corrected. "The result is the same, but it’s an important distinction that Sumire entrusted me with her name. I didn’t trick her out of it.”

“He earned it,” Sumire chimed in with a gentle voice.

“Earned it doing what?”  
  
Goro looked to Sumire. How exactly would he describe being _worthy_ of her? “Through some… persuasive arguments about my goals, demonstrated determination, and… acknowledgements about the types of lifestyles that would make me happy.”

“Lifestyles,” Muhen repeated in disbelief.

“I came to Shujin because of a man here who I am reasonably confident had connections to a dangerous conspiracy. That man is dead now, and so are the men who killed him.”

“The ones found stabbed in the woods… and the old mayor?”

“Exactly. I didn’t intend for my investigation to become so bloody, but what’s done is done. I will continue pursuing their associates, to someday topple the leader of the conspiracy. Sumire had wanted to protect me from the conspiracy’s danger, and… chose to do so in a way consistent with her nature.”

Sumire grinned at him. “You’d fit right in at one of the Courts.”

“Is that where you’re going? To a Court?” Muhen checked.

“No, I told you the truth earlier. We’re going to the capitol.” Goro smiled. “And if you hear word of Masayoshi Shido’s arrest or death, then consider it a greeting card from me.”

“That’s how high this goes?”

“Precisely,” Goro said. “Shido is responsible for… many tragedies in my life. It’s my mission to see him pay for what he’s done. Sumire is going to help me do it.”

“In exchange for…?”

“No exchange,” Goro said. “There’s nothing I can give Sumire that doesn't already belong to her. This is simply an alliance of trust.”

Goro could see Muhen’s horror as Sumire spoke up. “I understand you’re asking that question because you’re also concerned for Goro-san’s safety. I’m grateful for that, because it means we’re on the same side.”

“So you tricked Akechi-kun into your debt to _protect_ him?”

“Yes, that’s it.” She looked at Goro again, warmth in her eyes. “I had it all worked out, that if I found a way to keep him, he’d be happy and never want to run into danger. I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.”

“Hang on, if you’re traveling, you’re abandoning your threshold. You won’t have a domain to protect you anymore.”

Sumire nodded. “That’s true, but I know it’s wrong to live my life afraid. I had a dream for the world to see my dance. Goro-san reminded me that I can’t give up on my dreams just because my sister is gone.”

Muhen stroked his chin for a minute. “You are a… _very_ strange faerie.”

“I don’t mind being strange.”

“This actually brings us to the reason we came to visit, beyond farewells,” Goro interjected. “First, I’d like to retrieve those funds I left in your care. We’re going to need them to get to the capitol.”

Muhen nodded.

“As for the second reason…” Goro looked to Sumire.

She nodded and pulled a small ring of keys from her jacket pocket. “While we’re gone, I’d like to request you maintain care of my gymnasium.” Muhen recoiled from the keys, but Sumire continued, like she had expected his reaction. “I know this is an agreement with a faerie, but I have my hands full enough with Goro-san’s debt to me. I have no interest in other humans.” 

The words might seem monstrous or strange to someone else, but Goro felt his chest swell. Sumire wanted him and only him. If that wasn’t love, what was?

“...Your terms?” Muhen asked tentatively.  
  
“You may use the gymnasium space and all the rooms contained within it for any purpose that you desire,” Sumire explained. “In exchange, I ask that you preserve the padded flooring. You don’t have to keep it where it is, just don’t throw it out or damage it. I don’t care what you do with the rest of the equipment. And please, try to keep it clean.”

“You keep your bar clean enough that it shouldn’t be a problem,” Goro commented, as a sweetener.

“Why do you think I even want this place?”  
  
“You run a very respectable establishment, but I believe you could do more with a larger venue,” Goro told him. “Perhaps gaming tables, or a music hall. You have the class and sense to make something incredible if you just had the space for it.”

“Is this your thanks for when I helped you?”

“Essentially, yes.”

Muhen shook his head, but he reached across the table and took Sumire’s keys. “And you’re sure I’m not going to stumble on any ancient fae portals and get in deeper trouble with your kind?”

“Oh, not at all! The fae portal is about six miles west from here. There’d be chaos if it was in town!”

Muhen’s jaw dropped, and Goro couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

Three days later, a young man and a young woman waited at the Shujin's caravan port. They watched merchant assistants pack a series of wagons headed out of town. He held a rucksack, his arrows and bow strung over his back. She held a light suitcase, ribbons and jars of magic packed inside.

When the caravan driver gave the word, the two of them boarded a cart; her first, then him. They took seats next to each other, took each other’s hands, and faced the road ahead.


End file.
